Make Haste Slowly
by Friendship-Bravery-Souffles
Summary: When Mr. Maitland had given me the night off to go have some fun with my 'boyfriend' I am guessing he didn't imagine we would leave the country, much less the millennium. I also don't think he would have ever imagined I'd end up in a dank Roman cellar, waiting for one of the most famous men in Western history to pull a few strings upstairs so I could rescue said 'boyfriend.'
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello lovely readers! This is going to be an all original story, which will eventually take us to Imperial Rome, set between **_**The Crimson Horror **_**and **_**Nightmare in Silver**_**. It's a sequel to my own work 'More than Modesty.' Though if you don't want to/haven't read that, so long as you know that **_**The Crimson Horror**_** is any Whoufflepuff writer's dream with Clara and the Doctor pretending to be married, and that I am implying that the memories Clara forgot in **_**Journey to the Center of the TARDIS**_** keep cropping up in her head you will probably be okay, though I make no promises.**

**Big thanks in advance to reviewers/readers/favouriters/etcetera. I have been so warmly welcomed to the fanfiction writing world, it is greatly appreciated. I should be updating this fairly frequently. **

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

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**Make Haste Slowly –** _**Chapter 1**_

Well, as it turned out the reason that the Doctor had a trouble free night after 1:52AM on Villenguard was because we dealt with the trouble before his past self arrived. It didn't take long really. The Doctor had neglected to tell me that the plantation had once been a weapons factory, and that there were a lot of people, namely arms dealers, who were rather upset about its closure, hence a bomb being delivered as a gift. It didn't take us long to figure out how to defuse it though once we made it through the tangle of banana trees. The party even continued on as planned afterwards, and I think the jubilation of the workers about not being blown sky high made it all the merrier.

So it definitely wasn't the post-Victorian value head clearing walk that I had thought of, but I can't say that I didn't enjoy it. When we were both back in the TARDIS, laughing and short of breath because of the mad dash we'd just made when we saw the time was 1:50AM, I really didn't want to ask him to take me home again. And judging by the look he gave me, like he was dreading the moment I asked, he didn't want me to either. So I stole one last night away in the stars, saying that I needed to get some sleep before I went back to being the most-time guardian of two kids. He didn't argue. He just asked if we could pop into the TARDIS library before we went to bed.

Yes… before _we_ went to bed. I'm supposed to be protesting that, but I had figured it wasn't going to be an issue, not that it was really an _issue_, I just assumed it wouldn't be happening anymore now that we weren't Doctor and Mrs. Smith.

We went to the library, and I fell rather ungracefully into a bookshelf when we entered. It was a similar sensation as when I staggered behind the screen before we went to see Mrs. Gillyflower… Luckily this time though I was out of the Doctor's sight, as he had disappeared around a shelf, returning a few minutes later when I was fully recovered with an ancient looking tome written by some guy called the Venerable Bede. Maybe I shouldn't have wished for him to read me something other than Dickens'. Well I shouldn't have wanted him to read me anything at all really.

But I didn't object, and I fell asleep with my hand over his hearts again, rather quickly unfortunately since it was so late and I was tired. Not sure why I am thinking that me falling asleep quickly was an unfortunate thing, that was why he stayed after all, to make sure I slept okay without the nightmares. Right? Ahem, regardless, the next morning came as scheduled, and he dropped me off at the Maitland's as planned.

Now that I am back in what should be boring everyday life however, if I could chose, I would rather be back in Villenguard trying to defuse the bomb sent by angry arms dealers rather than be here dealing with the potentially explosive situation before me now.

That situation being that my charges have _somehow_ managed to locate photographic evidence of me showing up at random points in history, one of which hasn't even happened yet as far as I know, I can't believe that I am going to spend more time in Victorian England, but I guess the Doctor is going to have to try and redeem his snog box's accuracy at some point and will want another go at landing in London.

I also can't believe that Angie and Artie have somehow managed correctly conclude that the Doctor and I have been time traveling. They are full of surprises. I'm glossing over the fact that they have also concluded that the Doctor is an alien, and my boyfriend. We have now returned to the point I was in at Sweetville, which is that there are _far_ more important things to worry about right now than what other people are insinuating about my love life…

"Clara come back!" Artie shouts as I try to make a dash for the stairs and the safety of my somewhat makeshift room in the Maitland's attic. I can hear him and his sister coming up the stairs behind me, and I know my getaway attempt (professing that I needed to call my Dad) was somewhat desperate and that running from this problem wasn't going to solve it… So I resign myself, stopping halfway up the last flight of steps to my attic and turn to see them looking up at me expectedly.

"He wasn't planning to be here again till next Wednesday, so maybe I can talk to him about it then, but I have no idea when he will be back after that or if he'll be able to make arrangements for more than just one extra person." Okay, that isn't entirely true. He would be back in three hours, twenty seven minutes and eleven seconds from the time he left me if I asked him. Well assuming the TARDIS obliged which is always a bit iffy when it comes to me but still… They don't need to know that…

"He's your _boyfriend_, you can just _call_ him to talk about us having a go." Angie says, crossing her arms again and giving me her know it all look.

_Technically_ I still have the number for the best help line in the universe… And _technically_, as the Doctor said the first time I saw him; 'mobile phone' is a surprisingly accurate description for the TARDIS. I know that Angie and Artie aren't going to give up on this, so it might actually be a decent idea to consult the Doctor on how to deal with it. I'm not really sure what he will do, though I really hope he won't be mad; it isn't my fault we keep visiting the somewhat recent past when all of time and space are at our disposal.

"Call him Clara! Please!" Artie begs.

"First I've gotta call my Dad, then I need to start on Dinner." I say, taking a breath and trying to reassume my 'I am the boss' façade instead of the 'I am panicking right now' face I think I had on.

They are about to openly protest before I continue.

"_But_, after that, and if you both are set to your homework, I will call the the… John… And see about you coming with us sometime, okay?" Let's not call him just the Doctor in front of them yet, we don't need to have that conversation without him. He can explain why he doesn't give out a proper name.

Brother and sister exchange a look, no words needed to conclude that this is an agreeable arrangement for them before they head back downstairs, Artie pumping his fists into the air as he goes.

All I can do is put my face in my hands as I think about everything that could go wrong. The Doctor and I are going to have to have a _very_ serious conversation about the meaning of the words 'completely' and 'safe.' Maybe we can go visit wherever they write the definition of those words into the first dictionary or something so that the message sinks in properly.

Oh well, I have a few hours before I have to worry about how to talk to him about this, and I really ought to call my Dad, and dinner does need to be made. It might not be saving the world, but I don't walk away from my responsibilities here either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

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**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 2**_

Dad seemed well enough when I spoke to him, and dinner went off without a hitch. As I put a plate aside for George I can feel Artie and Angie staring at me from behind. They helped me clear up, which is a tad unusual unless I ask for them to lend a hand. Then they asked if I needed any help with the laundry or something, which _never_ happens, ever. And now they have their school books arrayed on the cleared kitchen table, seemingly very busy but really spending more time staring at my slow and deliberate process of putting the leftovers for their Dad into the fridge. I can't draw this out much more.

As I close the fridge, Artie appears at my side, smiling at me and offering me the portable phone. Angie is looking up at me with an evil grin.

"Time to call your boyfriend Clara."

"He's really not my boyfriend." I say as I snatch the phone and head upstairs. I know that they will just follow me as soon as I can't see them and press their ears to my door to listen, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like at least to _pretend_ I have some privacy.

Shutting the door behind me, I take the slip of paper the TARDIS number was scrawled on out from where I had hidden it in the middle of '101 Places' and sit on the edge of my bed. How a blonde girl in the shop had this number I don't know, I haven't really given it a proper thought.

I'm not sure why calling him terrifies me so much, but it does. I dial in the numbers carefully, worried that if I get it wrong I might end up calling Clom, or Midnight, or… somewhere not nice… The phone begins ringing, and I sit tensely on the edge of my bed, wondering if he will be around to pick it up. I'm not entirely sure what he does in between our adventures, part of me thinks he just goes ahead to our agreed on pick up time, but then again he could be off to meet Queen Elizabeth in a glen for all I know.

"Clara! Are you okay? What's happening?" His voice comes through the phone in a rush, the concern is evident.

"I'm sorry…" Great start, you haven't even said why you have something to be sorry for yet Clara.

"Are you okay?" He repeats, slower this time.

"Yes, but we have a bit of a problem I need to talk to you about…" I say.

And to my shock, the line goes dead. He hung up on me. The Doctor just hung up the phone on me.

I'm still trying to make sense of what just happened when I hear George's car pull up the driveway below, which prompts Artie and Angie's dash away from my closed door to get back to their homework now that their Dad is home. Sighing I climb off of my bed and head back downstairs with the portable phone still in my hand.

George is giving Artie a hug when I walk into the kitchen.

"Evening Clara." He says cheerily. It is Friday and he finally has some time off with his kids. Though I think he chooses to work all of the extra hours really, it's his way of coping with his wife's death.

"Hi George, how was your day?"

The small talk continues as I pull his plate out of the fridge and start to reheat it for him. The microwave noise makes it hard to tell, but I could swear I just heard the TARDIS noise coming from outside…

Oh no, he wouldn't, would he?

"Be right back, gotta check something outside!" I say before I dart for the door.

"Clara, what..?" Angie calls after me.

I don't even bother with shoes, I just pull the door open and take a running step out of it, which crashes me right into the Doctor who was obviously running towards the doorway, and we tumble into the shrubs by the Maitland's front door.

So the answer to my previous question is that yes, yes he would.

The entire Maitland family has followed me outside, and definitely saw the whole embarrassing collision, as well as our struggle to right ourselves.

I am blushing badly when I am finally on my feet again, brushing plant matter off of myself and feeling the Doctor, Artie, Angie and George all stare at me, expecting an explanation for my rather unusual behavior.

"Sorry, I thought I heard _John's_ car pulling in, and I didn't want him to disturb your dinner George. I called him earlier but his phone _lost reception_." I give the Doctor a pointed look. "I didn't get a chance to finish what I was saying to him, and I think he was a bit worried about me."

Okay, that covers all of our bases. I hope.

"Mr. Maitland, I don't think we've met." The Doctor says, holding his hand out to George.

"No I don't think we have, you can call me George though, Mr. Maitland makes me feel like I'm still at work." George says, taking the Doctor's offered hand and shaking it.

"Doctor John Smith, please call me John." The Doctor says cheerily.

Of course he caught onto my story perfectly.

"Sorry to worry you, as Clara said we didn't end up finishing our conversation earlier, my phone got a tad temperamental on me, and I am a bit of a worrier so I wanted to check up on her to make sure _everything was okay_."

He gives me a look when he says 'okay' and I try to say 'later' with my eyes. I think it worked.

"You're a friend of Clara's then?" George continues.

"He's Clara's boyfriend." Angie informs her father before I have a chance to intervene.

George looks a tad shocked at this news, but again before I have the chance to say something the Doctor starts talking.

"Indeed I am, and I'm very lucky to be able to say that." He says as he puts his arm around me.

Okay. Um. Well then. Okay? This is us playing a modern day version of Doctor and Mrs. Smith right?

George laughs at my loss for words before he says that it wouldn't disturb his dinner at all if the Doctor joined us, and asks him in for tea.

I don't remember the process of making tea, but it must have happened because I am now sitting at the kitchen table with the Maitland's and the Doctor. He and I are sipping cups of tea, George is finishing dinner, and Artie and Angie are not really doing their homework but instead watching the Doctor like hawks.

George and the Doctor are swapping pleasantries. Football match scores, their opinions on some new law the government passed, the results of an election in a country I didn't catch the name of. It's… strange… It's… normal..?

"Clara." George says, turning his attention back to me.

"Yeah?"

"I am telling you to take the rest of the night off, tomorrow too for that matter. I'll be home all day, and I wanted to do something with the kids anyways. Go have fun with John tonight, go back to his place if you want. We'll see you, both of you, for family dinner on Sunday."

I'm not sure what to say, and I start fidgeting with the dark silver ring on my left middle finger. Angie notices and looks at me, she knows my jewelry, it's one of the few things I can get her to talk to me about willingly. I'm going to get questioned about where this new ring came from later. Note to self; come up with a story that doesn't involve the Doctor. Let's leave this mess at 'boyfriend.' She doesn't need to know I spent a few weeks pretending to be Mrs. Smith.

"Thank you George." I decide on saying, with a small smile.

The Doctor stands up and takes my now empty tea cup to the counter.

"I'm just going to throw some stuff in a bag okay?" I say to him. But then I am worried, I don't want to leave him alone down here, subject to Angie's interrogation.

"I'll give you a hand." He replies, saving himself and me from that fate.

When we are out of eyeshot of the Maitland clan, his hand finds mine as I lead him up the stairs.

"I'm okay." I tell him quietly, finally getting the chance to answer his silent question from what feels like ages ago. He squeezes my hand.

I pull out my usual red bag and move about grabbing my tooth brush and the other necessities from where I had just unpacked them this afternoon. I didn't get the time to put most of them away properly so it doesn't take long to round everything up. The Doctor passes me my phone and its charger, and I have everything I need. I am assuming that this ends with me back in the TARDIS, so I don't need to worry about packing clothing.

"Would you like to go get coffee Doctor?" I ask him.

"You tell me when and where and let's go!" He replies excitedly.

"About 16 blocks away, which if we keep a jaunty pace will put us there at 9:25PM this evening." I say, grinning at his confusion before I tug him towards the door. Maybe I am pushing my luck, but I want a little more of this disturbingly nice normal before I get more timey whimey.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is the most dialogue dependent thing I think I have done yet, so I am very sorry if it is sluggish or if I got heavy handed anywhere. This should be the slowest part of our making haste, at least for a while.**

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

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**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 3**_

The first sip of coffee I tried to take was so hot I almost burned my mouth. Somewhat awkwardly I half spat it back into the mug and garbled a rather strange noise in my throat which made the Doctor jump a bit, bumping our table, making the cups rattle and causing half of the café to look at us for a moment before returning to their beverages and conversations.

"I'm fine." I say to the Doctor, whose concerned look doesn't leave his face.

"Honestly, I'm not made of glass. I won't fall and break apart on you, promise." I tell him, crossing my single heart, which only makes his look of concern worse.

I can't take his gaze and just look down at my cup of coffee, blowing on it to try and cool it enough to take a sip.

"So was it really your 'mobile phone' being a cow, or did you hang up on me earlier?" I ask, trying to bring him out of his introspective state.

"Well…" He ekes back into his chair and takes his hands off of the table, which of course means that he hung up on me and is worried I'll going to be mad at him.

"You said you had a problem, so I figured that we could just sort it out, you know, face to face, vis-à-vis …" He is waving his hands a bit as if that will make his point seem better. Seeing no excited agreement from me he continues.

"What is the problem we didn't fully discuss on the telephone anyways? I know you keep telling me you're fine, but _something_ must be up for you to try and get a hold of me like that." He says, hands sneaking back to his mug.

"Well…" Oh great, I've turned into an echo.

"Clara." His hand appears on top of mine, coaxing it out of the fist I didn't realize I'd made so that our fingers are somewhat laced together. That is a bit distracting. Wait, no it isn't…

"Artie and Angie have somehow managed to find photos of us from the Firebird, Caliburn House and one of just me in Victorian London. Actual Victorian London, not Yorkshire, so I guess you are going to get us there at some point. They… They also figured that you were a, you know, an _alien_." I rush through most of that, but halt to a whisper on the last word.

"And now they want to take a trip in the TARDIS." He finishes for me.

"Yeah pretty much." I say, looking pointedly down at my coffee again.

"Okay." He says, shrugging his shoulders.

"What?" I look up to make sure I heard him right.

"I said its okay, its fine Clara, really." He says, leaning back comfortably in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and raising his mug to his lips.

"Are you sure?" I was expecting there to be a lot more complications to this conversation, not entirely sure why but I was.

"Yes, why would I not be?"

"You don't know them at all and it doesn't seem like just anyone gets into the TARDIS."

"They're important to you. That's good enough for me."

I know I am grinning stupidly, but everyone else in this room probably already thinks I'm on a date and it is making the Doctor grin too so who cares.

"I know the perfect place to take them for a family friendly outing in space."

While we are on the subject of 'family friendly' it might be a good time to talk about 'safety…'

"Now when you say 'family friendly' you mean that there will be an acute lack of alien warrior races, parasite suns, ghosts, mad chemists, collapsing universes and burny zombie creatures among other things right?"

Not sure why I want assurance on the zombie creatures I keep seeing in my dreams, but as I move a hand to rub my head, which started hurting a bit, I figure that with the Doctor, anything could happen so why not cover my bases?

"If all goes according to plan, the only danger will be _boredom_ waiting among the massive crowds and the third hotdog stand to the right of the Spacey Zooma, but only if you have the Tuesday special. We will probably be going on a Saturday though, I like Saturdays. I could also probably finagle us a rather special ticket that might get us around the lines actually. So no dangers at all."

There is one tiny problem with that statement that he is failing to notice, then again maybe he is just intentionally ignoring it.

"When does _anything_ we do go according to plan Doctor? When it's just me, that's fine, that's more than fine, I kind of like it most of the time, there is nothing wrong with a little danger, but… I'm responsible for Angie and Artie. When I take them out of the house somewhere, they're under _my_ protection."

He smiles again when I use his phrase.

"Clara Oswald, anyone under your protection is in good hands. We will make it work. Trust me."

"We better make this work." I tell him, hopefully leveling my best 'I am the boss' look at him.

A minute or two of comfortable silence pass as we sip on our drinks. I look out the window, watching the cars go by, and am struck again by how _normal_ this is, and by how something feeling normal can also feel utterly abnormal. My attention returns indoors when the Doctor shifts so that he can reach the pocket of his jacket hanging off the back of his chair.

He gives me a bit of a nervous glance before he takes whatever he was looking for out of his pocket and delicately places it on the table between us. He watches me intently as I pick up the pair of faded plane tickets, meant to take two people from Heathrow to Rome International Airport.

"I found them on the floor by your bed when I went to get your phone. They're dated for July 1st 2005, but they were never used." He says quietly.

My breath hitches a bit as I reach out to smooth the edge of one of the tickets…

"They must've fallen out of my book when I opened it to get the TARDIS number earlier." I get out carefully, trying to keep my voice totally even.

"Rome is place 22 of the 101 places to see in the book." He says.

"Yeah, it is, how did you..?

"There's a copy of it in the TARDIS library, I read it one day." He admits.

His hand is on mine again and he's looking at me with _those_ eyes. I haven't answered the question as to why they are unused.

"Mum and I were supposed to go." I almost croak. I'm not allowed to cry, I am Clara Oswald, I must not cry, not in front of him of all people.

"When she… when she died… I couldn't, I didn't want to go with anyone else… Those tickets were meant for me and her."

His thumb is running over my hand now. I know I can stop whenever I want to; he isn't pushing me to tell him more, just affirming that I can. And for once I want to.

"I kept the tickets; I put them in our book. They were a promise, a promise to Mum. She never got to see Rome; she barely saw any of the 101 Places to See. I kept those tickets because I intend to go someday, for both of us." I finish. One tear snuck out on me, just one, and the Doctor's free hand quickly swipes it away.

"So let's keep that promise then ey?" He says, using the hand that dealt with my stray tear to lift my chin to look at him.

"I have a time machine. You have a day off. Clara Oswald, would you like to go to Rome with me?"

I nod my head, smiling a little again.

He gets up, grabs our mostly empty mugs and turns to take them back over to the counter.

I'm trying to sort out all the feelings in my head at the moment. Sad is there, sad is there for sure, years later it still hurts to talk about Mum. Oddly there is a bit of happiness though too, I put that on the Doctor.

After a farewell word to the man at the cash register who he hands our mugs to, the Doctor walks back to our table, doing a bit of an absurd twirl on his feet, amazingly without falling over them. After grabbing his jacket from his chair, he offers me his hand, pulls me out of my seat and into him.

"TARDIS airlines is now boarding for an 11:27PM flight to Rome. So we better hurry along back because your estimate of it taking only 29 minutes to walk here from the Maitlands was off by 3 minutes and 27 seconds, and I am parked around the corner from there, we don't want to be late for our flight."

Late in a time machine. Someday when he isn't being so awesome I will tell him how absurd that sounds.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Now we find out if I can carry off a plot... Thank you for continuing to read!**

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

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**Make Haste Slowly –** _**Chapter 1**_

When the Doctor had said that we'd landed near the Senate, I'd _assumed_ that that would mean towering columns and… other stereotypical impressive Roman stuff would be waiting for us when we walked out the TARDIS doors. He'd made a point of telling me that we needed to make sure we weren't underdressed for the occasion.

"Even my clothes would be rather avant-garde for the politicians of the Late Roman Republic, and if I'm not mistaking we just landed outside of their front door." He'd said when he grabbed my hand and led me up to the TARDIS wardrobe. I'd heard that Rome was a force to be reckoned with, but I'd never imagined it would be powerful enough to divorce the Doctor from his bowtie.

Roman clothing was a pleasant change from my last experience in 'period appropriate attire.' It was easy to get on, which is something I appreciate so much more now. A crisp white dress, pinned simply with gold clips at my shoulders, a red sort of shawl wrapped over it and around me, finished with a braided belt.

No getting lost in layers, no underwear that cover more than modern clothing. Add on my choice of the odd assortment of jewelry from a small chest at the end of the row, and I am ready to meet the locals. I think. I hope?

The Doctor had emerged from behind a row of what looked like ball gowns fit for a Jane Austen novel, wearing a long tunic, his own little blue shawl cape thing and a belt with a pouch.

I had to stifle a laugh at him. No trousers. That is a first.

So, dressed and ready, I take my first step out of the TARDIS, as I said, expecting something pretty grand since we were supposed to be right outside the seat of government.

There aren't any gleaming marble arches or elegant statues though… Instead I'm surrounded by tall brick buildings that look quite worn, and am pulled into a fast moving crowd of people going in both directions.

One man carrying an amphora runs squarely into me, almost dropping the clay jug and cursing at me as he keeps going. As I stagger to catch my balance without running into anyone else, a set of strong hands reaches out from behind and steadies me. I assume it is the Doctor and turn to thank him, _and_ to tell him I think he missed our intended destination _again_, but when I turn it's not the Doctor's face I am looking at.

Instead it's a young man, a young Roman man I guess and I am rather struck by his very intense dark eyes.

"Apologies, I did not mean to startle you." He says somewhat formally.

"That's okay, thanks for helping me."

His arms are still on my shoulders, like I might just fall over when the Doctor appears beside me.

The man stands up straight and adjusts his cape.

"Again, apologies, but if you will excuse me, I am already late to an important appointment; it was my pleasure to meet you." He kisses my hand and departs, almost strutting down the busy street. I can't help but think he looks a little out of place here. His clothes aren't grand, but his mannerisms are.

"Well you certainly don't set the bar high for being introduced to a place do you?" The Doctor says, grinning a bit as I watch the man walk away.

"You know who that was?" I ask.

"That my dear Clara, was the young head of the Julii Family, you might have heard of him, one Gaius Julius Caesar."

"The future Emperor of Rome just kissed my hand?"

"Dictator for Life, but yes, he did."

"Is is possible to be star struck if you meet someone who is long dead to you but is still famous? " I ask him as he ebbs our way into the flow of traffic and we start walking.

"I do it all the time." He tells me.

Before I have a chance to ask him who he's been star struck upon meeting, the narrow street we were on widens into a large plaza, full of people bustling about and vendors with little stalls, some set into the bottom floor of the tall buildings surrounding the open space.

It's almost like Akhaten all over again. There aren't aliens running about, but there are _so_ many different people, so many different sights and smells. Thinking about those little maps in the corner of textbooks, I remember how _big_ Rome itself really was. I know it covered a huge expanse of space, and so many different cultures of people, half of which seem to be here in this market square. People from all over the Mediterranean and beyond, with dozens of Gods, customs, foods, languages!

I guess that's the one big difference between this and Akhaten though, all I am hearing is English, which both adds and takes away from the experience I think. It makes it a tad less exotic, but at the same time I can understand what's going on around me.

That man with the funny hat is haggling for a better price on a wheel of cheese. The older gent a few feet behind him wants his wife to stop looking at the table of silk. A child is complaining that his sister stole his favourite toy. A woman in a rather… revealing dress standing in an alleyway is making passes at every man who walks by her, including the Doctor who visibly gulps, throws an arm over my shoulder and walks us away quickly. In our current garments that means a lot more skin on skin contact than usual, which is… different. And not something I am supposed to be noticing.

"Welcome to Subura Clara, somewhere roundabouts 78BCE if our new friend Gaius is living here." The Doctor says.

"So _not_ the front doors to the Senate then?"

"Well, an argument _could_ be made that it actually is in a metaphoric sense."

I raise an eyebrow at that. "I'm listening."

"We just met Caesar yes?"

"Yep."

"Well, in about 30 years, one could argue that he _is _the Senate. And I just put us right outside of his house!"

"Why is someone like him living in a place like this anyways?"

"Festinalente!" He says excitedly.

"Come again?"

"He is making haste, _slowly_."

"Still not following."

"Roman saying, basically it means that you should never rush into something, because when you just charge in headlong, you start to make mistakes. If something is important enough to need to be done with haste, it is worth taking the time to do it slowly, plan it out. And if ever someone was a man with a plan, it would be Caesar. "

"Not a philosophy you really live by though is it?"

"Not usually no… I have my moments. Caesar's nephew loved the saying so much when he becomes Emperor he'll start minting allusions to it on coins though."

"New question."

"Hmm?"

"The TARDIS is supposed to be translating things in my head right?"

"Yes."

"So why didn't it work at Akhaten, and why can you still speak Latin and it sound like Latin to me?"

"The translation matrix didn't work at Akhaten?"

"Did you miss the part where I barked at Doria?"

"I speak everything, I didn't even think about it…"

"That's never happened before has it?"

"Well… No, not really."

"Your snog box doesn't like me."

I am ready for a lecture on why the TARDIS is _not_ a snog box, which he seems about to start before seeing something at a small stall, whipping his arm from around my shoulder and making a dash over to it.

He starts talking to the man at the stall, who nods his head and goes back into the little covered wagon behind his wares.

"Remember when I said I might be able to finagle us a ticket to avoid the horrendous danger of boredom?"

I nod, crossing my arms and walking over to join him.

"I've got this acquaintance; he deals in kind of black market stuff, _big_ weakness for the real McCoy when it comes to pottery. This wonderful gentleman should have a piece that will be exchangeable for a golden ticket!"

There are two major problems here. Firstly, wherever he wants to take Angie and Artie has tickets on some spacey black market. That is a wonderful sign of safety. Secondly…

"Do you have something to pay for it with?" I ask him.

His face falls, before he madly starts rummaging around in the pouch on his belt. I am tossed the sonic screwdriver, a banana, a bowtie and a chess board as his rummaging continues, and he starts to draw a crowd. I can only assume that this bag is bigger on the inside.

"And you are?" One of the people in the crowd says to me.

"Oswin of the Oswald family, who is my girlfriend." The Doctor says distractedly.

You missed my first name Doctor.

"Aaahaa!" He shouts triumphantly, pulling a small leather wallet out of the bag, which I know has the psychic paper inside of it. The vendor had returned, and is giving us the same quizzical look as the small mob of people now around us. As the Doctor takes his random assortment of things back, I accidentally set off the screwdriver, causing it to make the familiar noise and light up bright green.

Gasps ring out from the crowd, and some of them step back or cover their children's eyes. Great, this is a fantastic way to make an impression…

When everything is back into the bag, the Doctor flashes the psychic paper at the merchant.

"Gallifrey?" He says, _very_ confused.

"It's his planet." I say. Oh dear, I'm so used to us being on other worlds that saying he has a planet other than earth seems normal, even if calling him an alien is strange.

The whole crowd gasps now, whispering to each other.

"Please, take the pot; take all of it if you want!" The merchant says quickly.

The Doctor awkwardly accepts the pot, and people start trying to pass me little trinkets, the Doctor grabs my hand and starts hauling me back in the direction of the TARDIS. I don't have a clue what just happened, but I do intend to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for staying with me!**

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly –** _**Chapter 5**_

Brushing plant matter off of myself would appear to be a recurring trend today.

There seems to be an unending supply of flower petals falling off of my shoulders and scattered within my clothing. While the Doctor had somewhat unceremoniously _dragged_ me back to the TARDIS, our astonished mob followed in our wake, throwing flowers and trying to put garlands on us.

I am actually properly confused right now.

The Doctor managed to escape my questioning after we got back into the TARDIS. He skidded away from me and down a corridor, saying that he needed to put his new authentic Roman pot somewhere safe until he could get it to his acquaintance. His black market acquaintance who he's going to trade a jar from antiquity with to get tickets for wherever he wants to take Artie and Angie.

So many problems here, and he isn't going to get away without answering at least _some_ of the questions I have right now.

The Doctor reappears minutes later, and asks if I know whether the crowd we left outside of the TARDIS has dispersed yet.

"Not sure." I say, shaking my head.

He walks over to where the scanner is, but I beat him to it, and put myself in between the Doctor and his monitor, crossing my arms and leaning back against it. He makes some noises of protest at me placing weight on the instruments of his precious time machine, and puts his hands on my shoulders as if to move me away. My arms uncross and hold the edge of the console.

Let's start with an easy question.

"Why did you call me _Oswin_ Oswald?"

"Because Clara is a modern version of a name that the Romans haven't gotten around to thinking up yet and I didn't want to give them ideas. Oswin is old English, so there shouldn't be any funny business mentioning it here and the Romans like old things so you know…"

He has given up on moving me and instead tries to reach the controls behind me. Looks like the rest of this conversation will be happening at pretty close quarters. Great… I'm just going to not think about that. Nope. More important things to worry about Clara. Next question.

"What just happened?" I say, _very_ slowly, narrowing my eyes and looking right up at him.

"_I _made a bit of an error with the psychic paper and then _you_ told them I had my own planet and then _we_ set off the sonic screwdriver."

He's given up on working around me now at least.

"That much I got thanks. It was more why we suddenly got offered anything for free and why we were showered with flower petals as we fled that I was hoping you might clear up."

"Well…" He trails off.

His hands find their way to the edge of the console beside mine, because, you know, we were too far away before, I couldn't feel him _breathing_ on me. Is he actually trying to distract me? Not that it is distracting in the least.

"Doctor."

"Do you remember what the Roman Gods were called?"

"Didn't the Romans basically knock off the Greek Gods?"

"Yes, but they renamed them, because that is enough to at least _pretend_ to be original. Also whatever you do don't say that to them, don't think they'd take kindly to it. Back to the question, do you remember any of their Roman names?"

"Aphrodite, didn't they call her… Venus?"

The reason I chose that goddess was definitely because we just met Caesar and I think he liked to say he was descendent from her. Yep, that is why I chose that particular divinity. Obviously.

"Yes. And what else is called Venus?"

"A planet." I say promptly.

"Ohhh… Ohh… Oh…" My eyes are wide. He can't actually mean that those people out there thought that he was some kind of _God_, can he?

"So, with the never ending bag, and the lighty upy sonic, and the planet thing, they might be thinking that you are some kind of..?

He rests his head on top of mine, closing his eyes, exhaling deeply.

My first thought is to try and make him laugh, or to tease him and make him uncomfortable so he stops looking so forlorn. But he seems so deeply troubled by this, making light of it wouldn't be the right thing to do at all.

"I make a very bad God."

The way he said it hurts, there is not an ounce of joke to it.

I want to say something to make this better somehow. But I don't know what. So instead of saying anything, I just put my hands over his and try to ease them from their clenched state.

"Sometimes people, they call me… they call me 'the lonely God.' I don't know who started it. The first time I heard it was in a legend, someone was supposed to tell a secret to the lonely God, the man without a home, and I went looking for the secret, I was sure it meant me… And I didn't mind then, I was… I was younger."

He trails off for a moment before continuing.

"I… secrets keep us safe. It's... It's not good for me to be alone... But at the same time…"

"Are you alone right now?" I interrupt.

"No." He says, raising his head to look at me.

"Then we don't need to worry. Because you're safe now, I promise." That's what he told me, when I woke up to find him guarding me, I can guard him too, my Doctor.

"You said that I don't run out on the people I care about, remember? Trust me this one time, as well as all the others."

And with that, it's a very good thing I'm pressed between the Doctor and the TARDIS console, because otherwise I think I'd have landed on the floor. My head just starts ringing, I see a metal door and a rocky cliff, I'm falling, then I hear the Doctor saying those same words, to me, asking me to trust him.

"Clara, Clara!" His voice is oddly muffled, and our hands aren't overlapping anymore, in fact I am almost laying against the screen I had been in trouble for just leaning on a few minutes ago, with the Doctor cradling my face.

"Sorry, I'm okay, not sure what came over me there." I say as I try to get off of the scanner display.

"This isn't the first time that has happened." He says. I want to kick myself...

"If I say that it is can we just pretend?" I say as I try to smile at him.

"When did it start happening?"

"The same time as the nightmares, before Yorkshire." I say dismissively.

He face whitens and he suddenly looks so afraid, and, guilty?

"There isn't anything for it, but if we disappear in a small wooden box those people outside really are going to start worshiping you. So why don't we head back out there and see about finding the long way up to the Senate? We dressed for the occasion after all, it'd be a shame to miss it." I say as I gently push past him and head back towards the TARDIS doors, hoping that I won't be crowned in a wreath of roses when I exit. I hear the Doctor following behind me as I open the door.

I'm met with another surprise though, when I walk outside, the street is deserted, eerily silent, and it's dark out.

When we arrived the sun had been high in the sky, it was probably just after noon. I know we couldn't have been inside the TARDIS for more than half an hour, something is really odd. The Doctor steps out behind me, and is just as confused. When I look at the TARDIS, there is a small weathered shrine built up at the front of her with candles, pennants, old incents and other little offerings littered about.

"We didn't go some-when else did we?" I ask, feeling a bit nervous I step back so that I can find his hand. The noise here was overwhelming when we first came out, making this silence deafening.

"Not unless you flew the TARDIS while I was out of the room no, we didn't."

"Yeah I definitely didn't do that."

"Okay, so no, we haven't moved, location wise or time wise, we should still be in the Subura district, city of Rome, just after one o'clock in the afternoon, around 78BCE."

We both jump when we're greeted by someone walking down the street.

"Salve citizens!" The man, who is wearing a helmet and carrying a small torch, calls to us.

"Salve legionary." The Doctor replies to him, holding my hand a bit tighter.

"I would suggest that people such as yourself should not be on the streets at this time, especially here. I can escort you back to your villa if you wish?" He says.

"Thank you, but we'll be able find our own way." The Doctor says, standing at his full height with a great amount of authority.

The man, who I am guessing is a soldier, looks like he wants to protest, but I wouldn't want to argue with the Doctor when he looks and sounds like that and apparently neither does he. The soldier makes a salute and carries on.

The Doctor's look changes as soon as he is gone back to being incredibly worried.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Soldiers are not allowed in Rome, and there are only a few times, well more than a few but a _memorable_ number of times when that happens." He says, almost in a whisper.

"And I am guessing none of those times are 78BCE?" I ask, almost dreading the answer.

"No."

"So somehow we have managed to end up more than just a few hours into the future without moving haven't we?"

"Yes."

Wonderful, it would appear that Rome is going the way of almost all of our exploits in time and space do, _not as planned._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Happy Canada Day! Thank you to those who are still reading, and thank you to those who have reviewed! I hope I am staying on track here. To guest reviewer Cat, I do hope this has been a bit longer for you than my oneshots!**

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly –** _**Chapter 6**_

"Why can't I _feel_ it Clara?"

The Doctor is frantically walking from one side of the road to the other, scanning everything in sight with his sonic screwdriver. It's a good thing no one is on the streets, he isn't exactly being subtle at the moment.

When I think about it, it really would seem like something magic, or divine, or whatever you want to call it if I didn't have some understanding of technology. I know earth in the 21st century isn't exactly the paramount of technological wonder, but we accept that it can do seemingly _impossible_ things. If I'd stepped into the TARDIS in the 19th century or something, I probably would've asked if it was magic.

"Ahahhhhh!" He groans as he starts slapping the sonic with the flat of his hand.

"You're going to break that." I caution him.

"For all the good it is doing me right now I might as well."

"You didn't want to part with it before, obviously it must be of some good." I say, taking it from him and tucking it into my belt to save it from his frustration.

A voice echoes from somewhere around the corner.

"You hear something?" I ask him. He doesn't reply.

When I hear it again, but a bit closer, I grab the Doctor and push him into a sheltered enclave, hopefully out of view.

"What?"

I shush him, putting two of my fingers over his mouth. He squirms a bit, and tries to grab his screwdriver back. I give him a gentle smack on the hand, down boy, bigger problems here... I'm not sure why I don't want these people to see us, but better safe than sorry right? The last soldier we saw didn't seem to want us on the streets.

A pair of men in helmets like the one from before pass by us, holding torches, they look around a bit but luckily for us don't decide to investigate any further. When I am sure that they're gone, I give the Doctor a look before removing my hand and stepping back out onto the street. He reaches to straighten a bowtie that isn't there.

"You were saying something before about not feeling, what did you mean?" I ask, as he starts walking down the street again.

"Remember when you said that time must be _made _of something, like jam's made of strawberries?"

"Yeah, you weren't a fan of that theory."

"Of course I wasn't, strawberries would be unacceptable, pears would be deplorable though so it wasn't the worst example you could've used."

"Okay, why are we returning to my unacceptable but not deplorable idea?"

"Because for a minute, if it helps, we are going to pretend that time _is_ made of strawberries and _is _like jam."

"Okay…"

He spins around to face me and I almost run into him. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

"So, jam, very sticky, usually doesn't run quickly right?"

"Yes it is and no it doesn't."

"Correctomundo! Wait, I wasn't supposed to say that ever again… Anyways… What happens to jam if you heat it up, like if you put it onto a really hot bit of toast?"

"It thins out a bit and sometimes runs off the edges."

"Yes it does, and if you're not careful you can end up with a very sticky mess on your sleeve and have to take a detour to a drycleaner on Presteritene, now, what do we get if we put all of this together?"

I stop to think for a minute, with him beaming down at me.

"So… Time is usually like cold jam, in that it does flow but not at a fast rate. Something is happening here that is heating the jam up, making it thinner and forcing it to run faster?"

"If it helps, yes, that is exactly what is happening here, I think at least…"

"So what is doing the heating?"

"That my dear Clara is the question that needs answering right now." He says as he grabs my hand and we start jogging down the road. No corset, I can run, I like it.

"So what were you saying about feeling it? You mean like, feeling time, right?"

"Yes, I _should_ have been able to feel it when we first walked out of the TARDIS, I can now that I am thinking about it, but something that forceful should have been apparent right away."

We slow down again, and he starts taking a closer look at every building and bush.

"Shouldn't all the people here be able to notice it? If suddenly half an hour of their lives becomes months or years?"

"I would think not, the human mind is amazing, sometimes in a bad way. It can fill in gaps and adapt pretty easily, especially to accept shortened information. You're built to handle a fairly short period of time, it can do short, so I don't suppose that anyone who is here notices it a bit, even you probably aren't going to be aware of it."

"Even me?" I am still human last I looked, so I don't quite understand how I would be an exception to the rule here.

"You… your memory has… surprised me thus far in how resilient it seems to be, like it refuses to forget. You see things, remember things, notice things that you shouldn't be able to." He says, hesitantly and a bit offhandedly.

"I know I say that everyone is unique in the universe Clara, and I mean it too, but some people don't know just how unique they are."

Somehow I think that is the most astounding compliment I have ever been given.

"Like you said, something is heating up our strawberry jam here, and I need to find out what." He says, before dropping down to the ground, putting his ear to the cobblestones and apparently listening to the earth.

I don't know what he is hearing, but what I hear is a clip clop of hooves hammering the ground somewhere down the street.

"Doctor, I think we need to get off of the road again." I say, trying to keep my fear down.

He doesn't reply, his eyes are shut and he makes no sound or movement of recognition.

"Doctor!" The sound is closer now.

A large grey horse comes into view, with a rider on its back, another soldier, who has a much more ornate helmet than the others, he must be someone in charge.

The Doctor is laying right in the horse's way, its dark, there is every chance that the rider won't see him.

So I do something which might be a _tiny_ bit stupid. I jump between them, flinging my arms out to make myself look as big as possible, I'd read in books about this working...

At the last few strides between us, my courage fails a bit and I close my eyes, if I am about to be run over I don't want to see it coming. I hear the sound of metal shod hooves sliding against the stone though, as the rider pulls his mount to a sliding stop in front of us.

The Doctor shoots up behind me, placing himself between the rider and me as the rider starts shouting at us. I'm not sure what he is saying, I'm still trying to get my heart under control again as I lean into the Doctor's back, and as such I fall forward a bit when the solider dismounts and roughly grabs the Doctor.

Instead of resisting, the Doctor grabs the bigger on the inside pouch and tosses it to me.

"Clara, run!" He shouts at me.

"No!"

"Clara, please! Take it and run!"

The soldier has him on his knees now. I could get away, there is only one of him and he is preoccupied with the Doctor, but I told him that I wasn't going to leave him, I don't walk out on the people I care about!

Those soldiers who passed us before are running down the road towards us.

"Sir, is there a problem!"

I still have no intention to run, when a pair of strong hands reach out and grab me, they belong to someone who is covered in a dark coloured cloak, he doesn't seem like one of the thugs...

"Apologies, please do as he says." He tells me quietly, before pulling me down a side street.

"Trust me Clara, go! Go with him!" The Doctor calls to me.

"We will go back for him." The voice says to me, pulling me harder.

"Yes, we _will_." I say, sounding a lot more confident than I feel.

I can hear footsteps behind us now, and I start running more willingly. When we make a sudden turn I almost lose my balance, whoever I am with drops my arm and starts trying to open a door, which appears to be locked.

"Move over!" I say, pushing him aside, remembering that I still have the sonic screwdriver which I rescued earlier.

Only problem is, I don't know how it works. I try to think… All of the Doctor's tools seem to have one thing in common, the paper projects your thoughts, the TARDIS seems to know more than she should, so does the sonic have a bit of a telepathic business to it to? Well it's the best guess I have right now, so I point it at the door, begging it to work, and press the button.

To my relief, I hear it click open, and the man darts inside, closing it quietly behind us, pulling his hood back. Now that we aren't running, I finally get a chance to have a look at his face.

A middle aged man, with striking dark eyes is staring at me, and bends over to kiss my left hand.

Oh my stars. This is my second kiss on the hand from one Gaius Julius Caesar.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly –** _**Chapter 7  
**_

It may sound a bit mad, but I think Caesar was more shocked to see _me_ than I was to see him. That definitely sounds mad. To him, judging by how much his face has changed, we met _years_ ago. He stopped me from falling over in the street and then wished me well. Even in my own time I am a nobody, just an ordinary girl. This is his time, and he's, well he is _Caesar_. Why would he remember me?

"Your face has no more tarnished than the beautiful ring on your hand." He tells me, all charm.

Angie wasn't the only person to notice my new ring then… At least I am assuming since he kissed my left hand both times he must mean the rather unique ring that the Doctor had given me, my keepsake from Yorkshire.

This is not a time for flattery though. I have to save my Doctor from whatever those Romans are doing to him… I think Caesar must have seen my panic return, because he grabbed me as I tried to turn to the door.

"We have to go back for him!" I shouted, probably louder than I ought to have, considering we are _hiding_ in here.

"And we will. I promised you that." Caesar says, letting me go.

"Sooner rather than later would be nice!"

I'm trying to tell Julius Caesar what to do. I really am the boss…

"Oswin, friend of the God, we will make all haste, just _slowly_." He is so calm that I'm almost finding it distressing.

I take a deep breath before reluctantly echoing the Doctor.

"Because if something is important enough to need to be done with haste, it's worth taking the time to do it slowly."

"Exactly. Those men will be dragging him back to their barracks as we speak. And my dear friend Pompey will want to see this God for himself, meaning no real harm will come to him till morning. There is no one using the servant's quarters in that villa right now, so someone with a magic rod that opens locked doors might find her way through with a little inside help." He says mischievously.

"He isn't a God..." I regret saying that almost immediately. I don't understand why Caesar is helping me, and if the only reason was because he thought that the Doctor was some kind of deity who would be in his debt or something I am ruining that motivation.

"You both can appear unchanged after years and _you_ have the ability to come and go as you wish through sealed doors, if that isn't Godly magic then please, do tell me, what is he and what are you?" He asks.

"It isn't magic." I told him adamantly as I wave the sonic screwdriver.

"Then tell me, what it is?"

"Um… Imagine you found yourself two thousand years in the past."

"I am doing so."

"You're standing there, wearing clothes that have been dyed beautiful colours, with a gleaming helmet on your head made of beaten bronze, and you're holding a steel sword."

"You paint a lovely picture."

"People see you, and they've never seen anything like you before. They don't know how to weave fabric like that; they don't know how to forge steel like that. They might not have even gotten out of their _caves_ yet. And they see you looking like that, what would they think about you?"

"They may think that I was not of their world." He says, grinning. Modesty is apparently not his strong suit.

"Exactly." I sigh.

He appears to mull this over thoughtfully for a moment.

"Oswin Oswald, did you just compare me to a cave man?"

I am momentarily terrified, but he just laughs, before tossing me the long cloak he had on earlier.

"No one is going to stop _me_, but they might have pause at you if they see your face." He says over his shoulder, heading to another exit from the room.

* * *

He led me through the streets, and true to his word, no one stopped him, in fact everyone gave him a salute as we passed. He nodded simply in recognition, never slowing for any of them. We arrived outside a massive gated house, and he motioned to the left side of it.

"There will be a door that way, open it and wait for my signal in the servant's quarters. Then, climb the ladder and go through the trap door. If I am not wrong, that will lead to the storeroom where they will have your God who isn't a God. _Wait_ for my signal, there is a bell down there; I will ring it when the way is clear. A mount will be waiting by the entrance to make your escape on, but you will see me again before you go." He says, before marching up to the front entrance.

I found my way, with help from the sonic screwdriver, through the deserted, _creepy_ servant's quarters, until coming to a small room with a ladder. I huddle into a corner to wait and now I've got nothing to do except think and worry.

So I sit in the dark, clutching the sonic screwdriver, trying to focus on something less worrisome than what might have happened to m-the Doctor. In my head, I try to imagine what George Maitland had thought I might end up doing with the night off he gave me.

Maybe he pictured us going to a little cafe somewhere, having a cup of coffee before heading to the cinema, or just taking an evening stroll. The oddest thing about that is it's actually kind of how the night began…

George also could have envisioned us dropping _John's_ car off at his house before taking a cab downtown to share a few drinks at a pub, perhaps joining some friends or something.

He might have even thought we would have a quiet night in. Make some popcorn and then spend an evening at _John's_ watching a movie.

Those would all be perfectly normal things for Mr. Maitland to assume his children's nanny might do with her boyfriend on a night off.

The two of us leaving the country had probably never crossed his mind, much less us leaving the millennium. He would never had thought I'd be sitting in a dank Roman cellar, waiting on one of the most famous men in Western history to pull a few strings upstairs, ringing the bell to cue my rescue of the Time Lord Mr. Maitland thinks is my boyfriend.

Have I mentioned that I am supposed to have more important things to worry about that what other people think about my love life? Ahhh…

* * *

It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. If the Doctor is right and time isn't moving properly it could have been forever for all I know. It felt like forever…

When my ears finally hear a gentle ringing, I jump to the ladder, climbing quickly to the top and unlocking the hatch, before poking my head into another dark room to see the Doctor, blindfolded and tied up.

I start to run over to him, but am stopped in my tracks when the door to the room opens.

"Just a caveman." Caesar's voice calls quietly.

Sighing my relief, I go over and pull the blindfold off of the Doctor.

"Miss me?" I ask as I untie his hands.

"Yeah lots." He says, smiling wide and standing up.

I kiss his forehead, which requires a trip to my tip toes even when he leans down for me. Then he notices Caesar standing in the doorway.

"What's going on?" He asks.

Returning to my accent from Yorkshire I say to him.

"Haven't you heard love? There's trouble at mill. He's a Roman." I finish, pointing as Caesar.

"That he is." Caesar says as he stalks into the room.

"Why are you doing this?" The Doctor asks cautiously.

"There are more important things to worry about right now. You can appear in one time looking exactly like you did in another. Find me later and ask me again, and bring this back too." He says as he draws his sword and offers it to the Doctor.

"What do we need that for?" I ask in surprise.

He grins wickedly.

"How else would you overpower Caesar?" He says before sticking his arms out and sort of bowing his head.

The Doctor shocks me by bringing the butt of the sword down, _hard_, on the back of Caesar's head, knocking him out and probably leaving one hell of a lump...

"He told me to..." The Doctor squeaks, seeing the look of alarm on my face.

Shaking my head I grab his sword free hand and lead him back the way I had come before anything else can go wrong. As promised a horse is tacked and waiting by the servant entry. A rather large horse...

The Doctor goes me to lift me onto his back, but I skirt away from him, because apparently getting on a horse is more frightening than angry Romans.

"He is Artorious of the stable Crassus and he swears by the bridle of his sire that he will not let you fall." The Doctor says quickly.

"Hang on, _he_ said what?"

"He's a Roman horse from a Patrician family, of course he sounds pretentious!" The Doctor says, like he is being forced to state the obvious.

"You speak _horse_?"

"Yes love; did you miss me saying earlier that I speak everything? Now hang on!"

He tosses me up before throwing his own leg over Artorious' back behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and taking the reins. A kick of his long legs and we are off.

Yeah, when thinking of what I would do with my night off, making a getaway on a pompous horse would definitely not have crossed George's mind...

* * *

**A/N: Sorry chapter took a bit longer than usual, it really took the Mickey out of me for some reason…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

When the Doctor slides off of Artorious before helping me down, and says 'you, me, box, _now'_ I have no thought of arguing. I've got him back; we've made it away from the irate Romans and to the TARDIS. Things are right again. When the TARDIS doors slam behind us and I jump into his arms for a hug, things are properly right again.

Except that they weren't…

I'd kind of forgotten that we had a mystery to solve when he got grabbed by the soldiers. He'd said time wasn't moving right, and since we don't walk away I assume that this trip to the TARDIS is a temporary pit stop before jumping back in headlong. But when our hug finally ends, he moves toward the console and starts to set new coordinates.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning _this_ to its proper owner!" He said, clumsily swishing Caesar's sword.

"So why don't we wait a few minutes and pop back outside? We seem to keep running into him anyways. I'm sure we can find some way to pass the time in here." I say, raising my eyebrows a bit.

Find some way to pass the time? Did I _say_ that? Instead of calling me on impropriety though, the Doctor just looks annoyed.

"_You_ are the one who keeps running into him. And we aren't going to wait here because for once I am…" He visibly swallows.

"I am going to make haste slowly…"

My jaw drops.

"So you actually have a proper plan then?" I say, sounding somewhat impressed. I'm used to the slap dash, make it up as we go way of doing things at this point.

"I had a _lot_ of time while I was tied up, and not much to do. I knew you would show up eventually, though admittedly I didn't think you'd bring a _friend_, but regardless worrying wouldn't have been productive."

"Okay… So we have a plan, what is it?"

"Step one, get rid of _this_." He awkwardly drops the sword into one of the seats around the console. Why can he toss sharp blades about but I get in trouble for shaking off an umbrella?

"Step two, take you some place safe where you can sleep while I make a rifty wifty thing that will go bingo bongo dingle dangle when there is stuff." He says, whirling and hitting several of the buttons on the console.

"Step three; take said thing to Cardiff in order to establish a baseline for a _nice_ rift." He throws a lever.

"Step four, come back here, find Rome's rift, compare it to the Cardiff baseline."

"Step five, to be announced based on what we find. Any questions?" He finishes as he spins around to look at me.

"Cardiff? Really?"

"Yes, _Cardiff_, did I ever tell you about the time I met Charles Dickens and we found the rift in the first place?"

"You mentioned Dickens, but skipped the rift bit. Next question, what _is_ a rift?"

"It's like a fault line between different dimensions. Normally pretty harmless, their radiation doesn't bother you humans, and the TARDIS even uses it to refuel. The one in Cardiff got particularly friendly after a very brave friend sealed it back in 1869."

"_Normally_ pretty harmless?"

"Normally, yeah, pretty not dangerous, rather not hurtful."

"So you think there is a rift in Rome and something is wrong with it, messing with the flow of time?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because while I had my ear to the ground, all I could hear were whispers, nothing that I could make out, but whatever it was wouldn't _stop_. I kept hearing them even after the rather grumpy Legate locked me up in that room. My friend who sealed Cardiff's rift, Gwyneth… she heard voices all her life, she thought they were angels."

"But they weren't were they?" I ask sadly, already knowing the answer.

"No, they were the Gelth, and they tried to rip open the rift to come through. I don't know who these voices are or what they want, but something is not right. Is it tacky to call things that won't stop whispering the whisper men? I don't know what they are and I don't actually know if they are _men_ so best not for now I guess…"

"So you think these whisper men, who might not be men, but do whisper, have gotten into the Rome's rift, disrupting the flow of time?"

"Oswald for the win!" He says as he smiles and holds up his hand for a high five.

"So where are we going then?"

"South coast of England, summer, 55BCE. Bit of a rough time for Caesar, _never_ underestimate a Celt! Maybe getting his sword back will cheer him up a bit."

* * *

When TARDIS lands, I'm about to head to the door when the Doctor reaches out to stop me.

"Stay _here_, look at that big red button on the console, and _don't_ stop looking." He tells me, pointing emphatically at the button and steering me towards it.

"Why?"

"Just to make sure it doesn't go anywhere!" He says, disappearing underneath the console.

"Is that likely?" I call after him.

"More likely than some things, less likely than others!"

A few moments later he reappears, bowtied and frock coated once again.

"What are you doing?"

"They already think I'm a God with a magical wand, mystical bag and a beautiful possibly also divine companion. No point trying to blend in with the locals anymore. Besides, we are no longer in Rome so no need to do as the Romans do. Also, Britain is cold and rainy no matter when you go, and togas aren't meant for that."

"So I should change..?"

"Out of Caesar's cloak? Yes, you _definitely_ should." He says nodding his head.

* * *

We step out of the TARDIS together, and as the Doctor said it's a cold evening. We are surrounded by big trees, I can hear sea birds, and the sun is just setting. There is a wildness about the place that is both foreboding and exciting. I can see several small plumes of smoke rising from not far away. Looking at my face and following my gaze the Doctor sees them too.

"Well that is where Caesar is. Shall we?" He asks as he offers me his hand.

We walk quietly together towards the smoke, and a large military encampment comes into view, buzzing with activity. When we get near the tree line, the Doctor stops, looking hesitant.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm not sure I should just walk in there. My last go with legionaries didn't end well."

"How else are we going to give that back?" I ask, pointing to the sword.

The Doctor's mouth tightens, like he is thinking of something he really doesn't want to say.

"I don't just want to get rid of this; I want to talk to him too. And I would rather not do that where anyone can hear."

"Do you think he'd follow me back here if I went in and asked him?" I ask somewhat reluctantly.

"Unfortunately yes, he probably will."

"Unfortunately?"

He makes an odd face but doesn't elaborate.

"Guess I am going in then…" I say, letting go of his hand, I only get about a step before he reaches to stop me, gently putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Clara?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to…"

"I know." I say, smiling quietly at him, a smile he returns.

I pull my jacket close as I walk towards the camp. It couldn't have been more than a mile from the edge of the woods, the whole clearing between the forest and the encampment is visible from both the edge of the trees and the camp's watch towers. I know that the Doctor will be keeping an eye on me, and also that someone in the camp will see me coming.

This assumption is proved right when a pair of horsemen come out of the camp, cantering towards me.

"Halt! Who are you and what do you want?" One of them asks me as they get closer.

"I'm here to see Caesar."

"And why would he see _you_?" The other man asks, sounding disgusted with the idea and gawking at my clothing.

"Tell him that… Tell him that there is a girl out here looking for a cave man." I don't know what kind of story is attached to my name, Clara or Oswin, after the whole 'friend of the God' thing. The Doctor was worried about the scene we may cause so I figure playing it safe is a good plan right?

The men exchange a look, but one of them turns his horse and heads back into the camp. The other sits there, staring at me in a way I don't particularly like.

Some minutes later, another rider leaves the camp on a rather large horse. As he comes closer I can see its Caesar, on Artorious.

He is grinning when he reaches us, and tells the other man to leave.

"Five years, yet the same as ever." He says to me.

"The Doctor wanted to talk to you, and give your sword back like you asked, but he was worried about coming in here himself…"

"The Doctor?"

"Oh, yeah… That is what he calls himself…"

"Hmm, well, shall we go and see your Doctor then?" He asks, before offering me his hand.

I think he means for me to climb onto that horse with him.

"Umm…"

The horse gives me a look, and I remember the Doctor saying he had sworn not to let me fall.

"So you will walk up to a Roman camp, in the middle of dangerous lands, _alone_, but you are afraid to get on a horse?" Caesar jokes at me.

"Well…"

He laughs again, before dismounting and pulling the reins over Artorious' head to lead him with. He seems to laugh a lot around me. He is always depicted as so… _serious_ in textbooks and whatnot. I like seeing a different Caesar. I like seeing history with the Doctor. It isn't flat, it isn't a stereotype, we can see people for all they are, _who_ they are, not just what they've done.

"Then let us walk." He says.

And so I head back towards where the Doctor is waiting for us amongst the trees, as the sun finishes setting on Britain in the summer of 55BCE, and it begins to rain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 9**_

Caesar and I made it without incident to the tree line; to find the Doctor leaning back against an old oak with his arms crossed. The Roman tethered his horse to a branch before giving the Doctor an appraising look.

"So are these the grand clothes that a caveman might wonder at then?"

"_Caveman_?" The Doctor asks, looking back and forth at both of us, obviously confused.

"Long story…" I tell him. Hoping he will drop it. I already feel embarrassed enough about that one thanks.

"You called him a caveman?"

So much for dropping it…

"Doctor…" I murmur.

His eyes lights up, but he manages to otherwise hold in his amusement.

"I think this belongs to you." He says to Caesar as he holds out the sword.

"Indeed it does, and based on how this campaign has gone thus far, I need all of the swords I can get."

The two just stare at each other for a minute, is it just me or are things a little tense?

"I was under the impression that you wished to speak to me." Caesar finally says.

"I do yeah." The Doctor replied.

When he doesn't continue Caesar begins to shift on his feet, glaring at the Doctor. I insult him by calling him a caveman, the Doctor keeps him waiting. We really are quite a pair…

"Those legionaries, in Rome, they weren't yours." The Doctor finally says.

"No, they were the soldiers of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, my… _friend_." Caesar hesitated at the last word, seeming to chew it over a bit before deciding to use it.

"So why did you work to undermine them, why did you help rescue me?" The Doctor continues. He already knew who the men were commanded by I think, he just wanted Caesar to tell us that himself.

"I did so to help Oswin, not you, and also because it aided me."

It's still really weird to hear him call me that. In fact he doesn't actually know my proper name. I wonder if that is how the Doctor feels sometimes. With no one addressing calling him by his actual name. Maybe you get used to it eventually.

"Why did you want to help her?" The Doctor asks.

"When you were threatened, she did not wish to flee, even when you told her to. She would have stayed and been taken herself before she left you. When someone is in trouble, I have found that friends are not always that… _supportive_. Many would take advantage of the situation for their own gain, or simply would have turned away so as to not endanger themselves. But she did not walk away, she is the kind of friend I wish I had, and the kind of friend I wish I could be." Caesar finishes bitterly.

"But you have a whole camp of soldiers down there that would probably _die_ for you." I say, hesitantly.

"They would die for an idea, for Rome, for glory, for Caesar their General. I doubt you could find one among them that would put themselves in harm's way just for me, as a man. When you become something more than just yourself, an idea, a symbol, a title, it is very hard to find people who remember to look at you for who you really are. The people around you, who you call friends and who call you friend, you both do it for gain, you _use_ each other, jockey for position, and strike each other down eventually."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"When I called him a God Oswin, you tried to prove me wrong. I don't understand what he is, but his otherworldliness didn't matter to you, _doesn't_ matter to you. You didn't try to use it to your advantage to get what you wanted from me. You just wanted him back, for him."

The Doctor smiles, almost sadly.

"My friends have always been the best of me." He says, in a hushed voice.

"You are a very lucky man."

"I know…"

"How did me rescuing the Doctor help you?" I say quickly, feeling a little uncomfortable with the looks they are both giving me.

"As I said, I am not a very good friend myself. Your God who is not a God escaping from right under Pompey's nose, me being 'attacked' in the process, it was a rather disgraceful night for Pompey, even though he never left his bed. He owed me a few favours after that."

Artorious whinnies, and starts pawing the ground.

"He wants us to know that someone is coming." The Doctor says, looking anxious and moving towards me.

Caesar looks in my direction, silently asking if he had heard the Doctor right, that his _horse_ had something he wanted us to know. I nod; it's nice to see other people having the same reactions as I do when the Doctor is being weird…

"We had best be going then. I have not found the locals to be overly welcoming." Caesar says.

He turns to me and flashes a grin.

"Oswin Oswald, God's friend, God's power, I hope we may run into each other again."

He turns to the Doctor.

"Take care of her. And let her take care of you as well."

And with that, he sweeps around, and throws himself onto his horse before galloping back across the clearing.

"He certainly knows how to make an exit doesn't he?" I ask the Doctor.

"I'll give him that yeah." The Doctor says, seemingly lost in thought.

"God's friend I get, you called me that and it seems to have stuck. But why did he add on the God's power bit?" I ask.

"For a man like him I guess friends are your power or your downfall…" He trails off.

"Doctor?" I say, tugging on his arm a bit.

"Hmm?"

I give him a questioning look before we hear something, or rather someone, several someone's actually, crash through the trees in front of us.

They look, _not nice_, pretty threatening, axes, spears, hostile faces, the works...

"Get the Oswald! The Roman said she was a God's power! We shall use her to defeat him!"

"Run!" The Doctor shouts, grabbing my hand as we turn to get away.

* * *

True to his word of not underestimating a Celt, as soon as the TARDIS doors are locked behind us the Doctor runs forward to get the TARDIS moved somewhere else.

"Never a dull moment with you is there?" I say, trying to laugh it off.

The Doctor's face stays serious though.

"You know what happens to him, to Caesar, don't you?"

That brings a sadness to me too.

"And you, Brutus?" I say quietly.

"Shakespeare, but yes, the sentiment is right at least. He walked into a _trap_… Betrayed by his friends and allies, the same way he had been all his life. Caesar had a very lonely road most of the time."

"Not every lonely monster can find a companion…" I say to him, though I don't know if he heard me, having already begun setting the TARDIS controls again.

We have both been soaked through by our run in the rain, and I am starting to shiver.

"We could have dropped in on him anytime, why did we have to come to cold, _wet_ Britain? Why not, like Egypt or something, where it's nice and warm? He ends up there eventually right?"

"Yes he does, but I don't think Cleo wouldn't have been too happy to see me again…" The Doctor looks embarrassed when he says that.

"Cleo? Like as in _Cleopatra_?"

"Where else do you think she would get a carpet that was bigger on the inside to hide in?"

"Yeah, but _Cleo_?"

"Cleopatra is a bit of a mouthful when you are in a hurry to say something… Whereas Cleo, two syllables, enough to get some emphasis on but not enough to trip over when you are… _preoccupied_."

He thinks for a moment before adding.

"Clara would work too I guess. Two syllables, three consonants, it's a nice name…"

I am a tiny bit taken aback, but he doesn't notice as he turns and tosses his drenched jacket over the railing.

"Step one complete! Now, onwards to step two!"

His vest joins his jacket and he runs a hand through his wet hair, showering droplets on the console he is leaning over.

Seriously, I got in trouble for the drippy umbrella but the TARDIS doesn't mind him throwing sharp or water logged objects about in here. I don't care what he says, she isn't a cat, she is a _cow_. This isn't a patience thing; she just doesn't like me for some reason.

I sit in one of the chairs, still shivering a bit from being soaked.

"Clara?" He asks, head poking around from the console.

"I could use a hot shower." I say to him, and his head disappears again, back to work.

He does seem to have a lot of ways to say my name, and I can usually tell his mood just by the way it comes out. Not that I take time to think about things like that. Oh well. I'm not sure what he meant by _preoccupied_, part of me kind of wants to know, but another part of me is happy being in the dark as to why _Cleo_ wouldn't want to see the Doctor again…

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for sticking with me thus far! I hope I am still on the right path! I am trying to balance thoughts and action. Things will probably slow down a bit next chapter again.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 10**_

Usually, I make a point of not flying off the handle. Nothing good comes from sudden outbursts in my experience. So with that in mind I think it is fair to say that my immediate alarm and anger when I walk out of the TARDIS to find myself in the Maitland living room is a little unusual.

Taking in the dark room for a few seconds I turn on my heels and march straight back into the TARDIS, not only halting the Doctor's exit but forcing him to scramble backwards.

"_You_ need to _move_ this thing _now_."

"Clara, no it's okay, we-"

"_Not_ okay. Do you know where you put us?"

"Yes I do, we are at the Maitland's an-"

"We are not _at_ the Maitland's we are _in_ the Maitland's!"

"Yes but-"

"_In_, like _inside_ the house!"

I am prodding him in the chest now to emphasize certain words and he is still retreating backwards.

"Clara it's okay!"

I have him right up against the console now, glowering at him.

"Clara please, listen to me, its-"

"It is _not_ oka-"

He silences me by putting a finger over my mouth, and uses his other hand to trap the one I am poking him with against his chest.

I am _still_ glaring at him despite being unable to speak.

"Yes we are _in_ the Maitland house. Yes, if anyone was in it would not be okay. But no one is home. It's about three weeks before we met, and you are all out for the night. Mr. Maitland and the kids are at his in-laws for the weekend, and you went to visit your Dad. Vacant house, it's _okay_."

He eases his finger away from my lips. Enough so that it is no longer quite pressed against them, but still _close_, probably in fear that I will start talking again.

He lets go of my hand, I guess convinced that I won't start accosting him with it again. The finger lingering over my mouth finally moves away too and the Doctor holds both his hands out to the side in a sort of surrender.

Part of me feels a bit embarrassed at going after him like I did, but I'm not sure what to say… So I just hug him instead of saying anything. He wraps his arms around me so I hope that means he isn't cross.

"A safe place to sleep while you worked on something was step two, so why here?" I am genuinely curious. Everywhere in time and space at our disposal and he picks the Maitland's?

"Well I know it's still standing in a few weeks with no evidence of having recently been leveled by rhinos, or Sefopats or the like. Also you wanted a hot shower and this has the infrastructure for that, and I kind of hoped a familiar environment might help keep the nightmares away in my absence..."

Because he will be busy working on some kind of equipment and thus not around to… 'hold me' sounds _overemotional_ despite being a somewhat accurate description… 'sleep with me' implicates other things that are definitely _not_ happening… 'bunk together' sounds overly childish and not quite poignant enough… Not that I have given our sleeping arrangements of late any thought at all, there have been more important things to worry about.

"Why not the TARDIS though?"

"Because you think she doesn't like you... And I won't be around to mediate any conflicts so I am hedging my bets for once." He states, running a hand through his still wet hair again.

Logical, well thought out, who is this and what have they done with my Doctor, I mean _the_ Doctor? Maybe I ought to call it a night before I start thinking about how he keeps running his hands through his hair, not that I was or anything.

* * *

We bid a temporary farewell, me heading up to the bathroom and him disappearing goodness knows where into the TARDIS.

It is strange to be here, in my past… I try really hard not to move anything too far from where I found it, so that I don't give myself or anyone else any pause when we get home. Seeing how little things have changed here, yet how much I _feel_ like they have changed since I met the Doctor is unnerving.

When I get out of the shower, into pajamas and back up to my attic, I decide that there has to be at least one thing that is the same, Doctor or not. So I pull '101 Places to See' off of my bookshelf and flip through some of the pages, only to find that even that has changed, or _will_ change. The first page is still there right now. The most important leaf in human history, still flatly pressed in the book.

Something is missing from it though too, the little slip of paper with the Doctor's number. I haven't gotten my computer yet, so I haven't met the girl who somehow knew the best help line in the universe. We still haven't given her enough thought yet… Maybe it isn't so absurd when the Doctor says he can't find the time to do things after all.

Turning back to the leaf, I pick it up again. I have to put the book away after that though, I would do it all again, but losing that leaf still hurt and my feelings at seeing it once more are mixed.

I move to hang up my wet jacket, having been lazy before and in a rush to get out of my wet clothing I'd just tossed it on the floor. Picking it up however, I discover that I have a problem.

The sonic screwdriver is still sitting in the pocket of my jacket. I had stuck it there when I changed, and I guess Caesar and the Celts and the Maitland's house as a landing pad made returning it slip my mind, and apparently the Doctor's too... If he is trying to make something he is going to need this won't he?

Which brings me to a new problem, he is in the TARDIS somewhere, but I don't have a clue how to find him. I _could_ wait till he came back of course, but that really isn't how I like to do things, I don't like waiting when I could be doing instead.

There is a third potential problem though; will the TARDIS let me in? If he shut the door, I am kind of stuck outside with no alternative but to knock very loudly. When I make it down to where the blue snog box is parked though, I find that the door has been propped open slightly with a mop.

Okay, so now to find him. If I was trying to build something, where would I go if I had all of space and time available to me… you know what? I would probably _still_ go to the library first. Call it old university habits, research first and write later, but it's the best I've got right now, so let's try it.

Walking through the deserted corridors is kind of eerie, like someone is watching me, which I guess they are really.

It doesn't matter how many times I come into the library, it is just as jaw dropping every time. The place is huge though, and I'm not sure where to start. But huge is better than infinite I suppose, a lot more manageable. Following my feet, not really knowing where to go I wander about, finally coming to a small side room. I'm not sure why I am heading this way but then why not? There are odd bottles which seem to be trying to talk, with labels that say they are encyclopaedias on them. The books here all look old, _really_ old, not un-kept, just aged. I feel like I am at the library of Cambridge or something a few hundred years back. There is one book, bound in rich leather sitting on a pedestal. Curiosity gets the better of me and I begin to walk towards it.

"Clara!" The Doctor's voice calls, somewhere behind me.

"There you are." I turn to see him, only to find he is white as a sheet.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I rush forward.

"Me, uh, yeah, are you?"

I nod, I don't know why he looks so worried, scared even.

"Um, I accidentally kept this…" I say, kind of sheepishly as I present him with the sonic screwdriver.

"I've been looking for that…" He reaches out to take it and flips it affectionately before pocketing it.

"Thought you might have been."

He gives me a funny look, some of his colour is coming back though at least.

"Let me walk you back to your room."

"It's okay; go make your rifty thing." I say as I make to leave the room, I can find my way back, I think. Assuming the TARDIS isn't crafting mazes in her spare time again.

He just offers me his arm like we are in Yorkshire again though, and ends up escorting me all the way back up to my attic like a proper gentleman, which I guess he is most of the time.

"12:07." He chuckles, looking at my clock.

"Good thing I want sleep and not internet then." I manage to get out while suppressing a yawn.

He actually tucks me in before kissing my forehead.

"Goodnight Clara." He says, quietly shutting my door.

* * *

**A/N: A little fluff is good yes? **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 11**_

It turns out _not_ to be a good night though, not for me at least. Luckily the TARDIS decides to start making noises before my dreams can get too bad though, the burned creature only chases me as far as the library before I wake up. The odd rattling continues for several minutes, so even if I wanted to get back to sleep I know it's out of the question right now. Looking to my clock I see its only 3:53AM, meaning I have slept less than four hours, fantastic.

Hearing the Doctor start to shout downstairs I figure its best to go see what on earth is going on. When I walk through the propped door, he is waving his arms at the TARDIS, seemingly quite upset. This is new, usually those two get along perfectly and his only words to her are praise, compliments and adoration.

"Is she not being quite as _sexy_ as usual right now?"

He jumps, dropping the coil of wires he had been holding.

"Clara! Um, well… she doesn't seem to like the idea of letting my new invention channel her power source, which is even more peculiar when you consider that it is going to take readings _of_ her refueling source… What are you doing up anyways?"

"Well I heard you two having a go and thought you might need someone to 'mediate your conflict.'"

The Doctor makes some garbled noises as I lean back against the railing. The room is a mess and so is he. He is jacket and vestless, and his shirt is all wrinkles and is sporting several stains. The usually spotless console is a disaster.

"You've been working hard."

"I wanted to be done by the time you were up." He shrugs a bit.

"Sorry…" I'm not sure what I am apologizing for, for having a human sleeping schedule or possibly for waking up several hours sooner than he planned for me to.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

He picks up the wires again.

"If you're not able to sleep, do you want to help?" His question is tentative, like he is worried about something.

"Yeah sure, just let me get some proper clothing on." I turn to leave.

"You don't have to; I've known several people who could do wonders in just their nightware."

My eyes widen at that comment, and realizing what he just said the Doctor's face reddens and he starts to backpedal.

"As in amazing things." His mouth momentarily snaps shut, knowing that that comment just digs him in deeper.

"I mean like, like, _impressive_ things, like, saving a Starwhale, or, or, facing down clockwork robots, and, well it was me but one time I had a duel on Christmas day in pajamas that weren't even mine and and…"

I shake my head and leave him to his embarrassment, chuckling as I go.

* * *

It probably shouldn't be surprising anymore that we make a good team, but we _really_ do. It took a while but the TARDIS finally stops making noises when we try to connect the power cables under the console. Putting something together that I don't understand shouldn't be this fun, but it is. We are laughing and joking and just spending a lot of time smiling. The Doctor does most of the technical work, but lets me solder some bits together with the sonic screwdriver, which I promptly give back to him when I am done so that I don't run away with it by mistake again.

He insists we both wear safety glasses most of the time, better safe than sorry he says. This is a good attitude for him to have if we are going to take Angie and Artie somewhere. I like it. Maybe we don't need to have such a serious conversation about the meanings of 'absolutely' and 'safe' after all. Maybe he does _actually_ know what they mean, and just chooses to gloss over them most of the time…

A couple hours in he accidentally pokes something he shouldn't have, and it sends a gush of steam into his face, fogging his lenses and making his hair flop all over. He lets out a string of what I _think_ are curses at the offending part. It's a language I don't understand at all, but it's absolutely beautiful even if I know he's using it roughly. There is an odd familiarity to it.

In what seems like forever and yet no time at all, we are standing proudly, if sweaty and a bit dirty, in front of a very strange contraption.

When the Doctor had said he was making a 'thing' I thought that he was just saving me from a rant about something highly scientific that I probably wouldn't understand even with my newfound expertise in computer technology. But now that I actually see the tangle of wires, spinning gears and switches I am starting to think that 'thing' is a good name for it really. I certainly don't know what else we could call it.

"Is it done then?"

"Yes, it just needs to finish initializing the main drive and it's ready to go!" His face is eager and bright, seemingly quite happy with his, well _our_ handiwork. That thought makes me smile again.

"How long will it take?"

"An hour, _maybe_ two?"

"Time enough to clean up then?"

"Absolutely! Ladies first!" He whips a rag out of his pocket and starts to buff the console.

I roll my eyes at him. Looks like he and the TARDIS are back on good terms then, their earlier disagreement behind them.

"Well _this_ lady is going to have her second shower of the evening."

"A mop would be really helpful…" He says thoughtfully, looking up from his polishing.

"You've got one holding the door open." I tell him as I remove it from the door and pass it to him.

"Hmm, that's handy."

"Just, just make sure you can hear me when I knock to get back in…" My tone on that was far more… _anxious_… than I would have liked it to be. I go to leave again but he calls me back.

"Clara, hang on a second."

I turn to look at him. He smiles before he walks over and gently dabs what I assume is a smear of something from my nose with his rag before pocketing it again.

"Meet back here in half an hour. I'll have the place sorted by then, and then we are onwards and upwards!"

We have successfully completed step two of his plan, minus most of the sleeping bit I guess…

* * *

**A/N: Sorry, I know this is short but I am really struggling with what should be the rest of this chapter and the next one too. Hopefully something is better than nothing while I sort the rest out… I've been taking the general quietness and new follows as consent that I am still on the right track here. If I am veering off please do tell me. Having a plot that is all my own is kind of daunting at times.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 12**_

The Doctor says he is slow, but I don't think he is, I think he just misses stuff sometimes. He is always so busy looking for the fantastic that he can miss the little things. Like right now for example. He is too preoccupied with his rift readings to notice something ordinarily extraordinary happening outside the TARDIS.

He has set her on some kind of autopilot, with the range of staying within 30 miles of the rift in Cardiff, and the limited time frame of 1870 until 2004. We can land anywhere, anytime inside those parameters. He wants a good range of readings to set his baseline, and different distances so we can hopefully better track the rift in Rome.

Even though we have 30 miles worth of destinations, we seem to be landing in one place a _lot_, Roald Dahl Plass. And every time that happens, there is a man outside, and he starts staring right at where the TARDIS lands, even though he would be looking at empty space because the Doctor has enhanced the perception filter around his ship.

When I start keeping track of the years we land in the plaza, and then look closer at the man, I notice that his face _never_ changes; he is just as young and handsome in 1987 as he was in 1954. Something is going on here and I intend to find out what.

"Doctor, there's someone here I think you need to see." I tell him when we land in Roald Dahl Plass again, in 1922.

"Remember this Clara, because I hope I never say it again, but I have a few too many mysteries that need solving right now before I go adding another one." He doesn't even look up when he says that.

"Time moving too quickly in Rome and finding the rift there because you think something is wrong with it. That's not so bad is it?"

"I have others too, you know, on the to do list, finding a black market golden ticket, and sort out other highly improbable… stuff."

I shake my head, not expecting to get more out of him right now, not in words at least.

A few hops later it is 1965, and we are in Roald Dahl Plass _again_. Instead of trying to call his attention, I make for the door, walking out into a warm Welsh night. The moon is bright and beautiful over the bay and the sea is rolling.

The Doctor will follow me out here, I _think_, and then he'll see this man for himself.

"Clara?"

There he is, right on cue. Instead of turning back to him like I normally would I keep walking. Usually this mystery man is striding across the plaza, and stops mid step to stare. But tonight he is slumped down on the steps, looking at the ground with his hands clenched together.

"Clara! What are you doing?" I can hear his steps quicken behind me, and in no time his hands are on my shoulders, I stop to look up at him, he is staring at the man and looking terrified.

"Do you know who that is?"

"He is… He's… He's a friend of mine."

"He traveled with you didn't he?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"He got… left behind… But he found me again, just not yet. Not for him."

"What happened?"

"Long story…"

Thinking about getting left behind scares me, and I want to know more, but now isn't the time for that. The TARDIS didn't pick this place by accident, of that I am sure now. She keeps bringing us to him; she wanted us, or maybe just the Doctor to find this man.

"He looks like he could use a friend right now."

"I don't know if he would recognize me, I can't cross our timelines, it would end _badly_. He can't meet me again yet. The paradoxes of time travel mostly resolve themselves, but, among other things, Captain Jack Harkness is a _walking_ paradox."

"Well maybe a friend of a friend will have to do then ey?" I say as I gently lift his hands off of my shoulders, and walk over to the man, Jack, and sit next to him.

He looks up in surprise.

"Hello." He says.

American, I was not expecting that.

"Evening."

From his spot across the plaza the Doctor visibly twitches at that exchange, his lips pursing as he shifts on his feet.

"You okay? You seem to be a bit… not happy. I couldn't help but notice, I've seen you here before, but you usually have a lot more… spring to your step."

"You couldn't help but notice me?" He is smirking, but it is through a deep sadness. When I look closer I can see the tracts of tears on his face.

"Call me observant?"

"I could think of better things to call a beautiful girl like you."

"Someone might not like that very much..." I mutter thoughtlessly.

"Boyfriend?" He asks as he tilts his head in the Doctor's direction.

"Um, some people would say he is…"

"Lucky man."

I laugh, and I know it sounds forced. This is off topic; we have more important things to talk about than me.

"Can I ask what's got you down? I don't mean to pry, you just seem so…"

I'm not sure how to end that sentence, I kind of wave my hands a bit hoping it will help. Oh dear, I hope the Doctor isn't rubbing off on me…

"_Lonely_…" I finally add.

Jack sighs; sitting up a bit before he starts to speak.

"I lost track of a friend of mine, it was… one _hell_ of a strange night. He used to come here once in a while; there was something special about it for him. I kinda hoped if I popped by now and again I'd run into him."

"Why not look for him?"

"He can be _very_ hard to locate."

"I find it's better to work at something hard rather than sit and hope something easy will come along."

His expression softens a bit, and I continue.

"You didn't really answer my question though, you come to see if he is here, but why are you so out of sorts tonight?"

"Because I have to make a very difficult choice soon, one that I wish I could take to him, he is… quite a wonder. I have to decide what to do about a very big problem, I've only got two options and I don't like either of them."

"You don't have a choice about making the choice though do you?"

"No."

"So your hands are tied?"

"Yeah, and not by someone I would like them to be, which for _me_ is saying something." His voice manages to sound suggestive, but his eyes stay grim.

"Don't you think that your friend would understand that you are being forced to make the best of a bad situation then?"

"He would find a third option somehow."

"There isn't always a happy way out of something, sometimes we have to make the least bad decision, instead of the most good, try to lose a little instead of a lot…"

He is crying again. The Doctor has walked over to us without our notice.

"She's right you know."

Jack's head snaps up.

"I know she is…"

"I'm a bit of a coward; you are brave to take this on, whatever it is, with no way out." The Doctor says to him.

I stand and offer Jack my hand to help him up.

"I think we have to go now, will you be okay, on your own?"

He takes my hand and hauls himself up, shifting his greatcoat and then snapping into a crisp salute.

"Ma'am." He says to me.

I flush a bit, and lean back into the Doctor without thinking about it.

The Captain starts to march away from us, his coat billowing out behind him. A few feet away he stops and turns back to us.

"I was wrong before." He calls to me.

"About what?"

He points to the Doctor before saying.

"He's not just lucky, he is _impossibly_ fortunate."

After Jack disappears out of the plaza I lead the Doctor back to the TARDIS, as he goes to shut the door behind us he starts shaking his head.

"What's wrong?"

For a minute I worry that I might have done something wrong with Jack, accidentally changed his future or something. But based on the annoyed look on the Doctor's face I don't think it is anything that serious.

He rolls his eyes.

"You seem to be making a habit of running into men that can make _very_ enigmatic exits…"

* * *

**A/N: Shall we go straight back to Rome, or end up with an accidental detour to Caesar's stay with Cleo in Egypt? I can work it both ways, chose your own adventure!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 13**_

Supposedly back in Rome, the Doctor gives me a gentle shove out of the TARDIS.

"Give me eleven minutes and forty seven seconds. By then the sonic will have finished downloading its new rift setting and we will be good to go. _Stay there_. We are in one of Caesar's houses, so you shouldn't be in harm's way as long as his memory isn't going in his older age. Old age, that is a laugh. _Old_ at fifty five…"

I am certainly safer with Caesar right now than I am with the TADRIS. I _might_ have accidently put a scorch mark on her shiny console helping the Doctor set up the sonic for downloading its new setting from the rifty thing…

There's a heavy fragrance in the air of the room we landed in. It's coming from a small alter set up in front of a balcony. There is a stunning centerpiece, a statue of a woman, she has wings and a crown topped with two prongs and a large sphere. It looks like solid gold, with green and blue enamel as the feathers. I am drawn towards it, but as I reach out to touch it my hand is slapped forcefully from the air.

"How dare you approach without permission, who are you, and why are you in our presence?"

A livid, lavishly dressed woman is standing before me. What leaves the greatest impression on me though isn't her decadent jewelry or the stinging pain in my hand, but rather the way she comes off, she _radiates_ authority. I can't stop staring at her, even though I know I probably should.

"I didn't mean to be rude…"

"You are continuing to be rude; one must lower their eyes in our presence. How dare you look at our face this w

ay!"

Whoever this is, she is using the royal plural. The Doctor said this was Caesar's house, if he is getting older he must be Dictator of Rome now, meaning he could be entertaining foreign dignitaries right? So, royalty from somewhere else… Oh dear… There is one place that has a reigning queen right now, somewhere I know that Caesar visited because I asked the Doctor why we didn't meet up with him there. _Egypt_ has a queen right now, the Pharaoh _Cleopatra_.

"Your majesty?"

"That is certainly an improvement."

She really isn't much of a charmer... Her eyes are running over me, as if weighing me up for a fight or something.

"Who _are_ you?"

How do I play this? I can't call the Doctor; he is safer inside his box. He didn't think she would be happy to see him again and that isn't something I want to argue right now. I never asked what 'preoccupied' meant and I am have decided I am happier not knowing something for once.

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you." An honest if ambiguous answer…

"You may walk with us, we do not know who you are, nor do we believe we like you, but something about you welcomes our interest."

Somehow I think that is more of an insult than a compliment, but going with her is probably a better plan than refusing.

"You may approach."

I cross my arms and follow her out to a courtyard cautiously.

"You show us great disrespect, and yet somehow we are almost impressed by this. You do not quail in our presence; you show little deference, which is not acceptable. But at the same time you show no trepidation either. This is most unusual, we should not like it, but we do. We had become accustomed to the envy and the scorn in this dreadful place, you show neither."

So Cleopatra is definitely visiting Rome then. The silly thought strikes me that maybe time just can't cope with all of the pompous attitudes cooped up in this city and is trying to rush them out or something…

"And you are obviously upset with the way we are speaking to you, yet you hold your tongue. Not in reverence, but in bitter silence. You are quite something. Not an ounce of grace or respect, but you are something."

Again, not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. She is glaring at me, waiting for a reply.

This is a woman who is used to having people look up to her. But while I love a fairy tale, I've never wanted to be a princess myself. Too much waiting, which I am usually bad at, I'd be rubbish at sitting in a tower hoping someone would come find me, what would I do to pass the time? Make soufflés?

To write this woman off as a princess wouldn't be fair of me though. She isn't awaiting rescue, she is a _reigning_ Pharaoh. This woman before me may have an ego that is more prominent than a certain chin, but she isn't one for waiting either... I can't say I like her, but I have to admit I kind of respect her.

"You think much and say little. Clever, if not very interesting." Her eyes are now more amused than angry, she looks at me again and despite ourselves we share a small smile.

"Least said, soonest mended…" I finally get out, and she seems to approve of that statement.

I hear the Doctor's voice echoing from somewhere. Looks like eleven minutes and forty four seconds have passed; I should probably head him off. I don't know if I can get him out of chains twice in one… it's been more than a day hasn't it? Twice in this short a time span anyways…

Cleopatra sees him though, giving him a curious look.

"Can just anyone enter our residence now?" She says, annoyed but _not_ sounding like you'd avoid the warmth of the Nile to stay away from her. What is going on?

Before I have time to make think that through, Caesar's voice echoes towards us.

"Doctor, what are you doing here?"

Oh no… I start running before Cleopatra has time to react, to find the Doctor and Caesar face to face by the golden statue.

"Oswin!" Caesar's face is much older now, but he still grins when he sees me.

"Doctor…" I hiss, pushing him back towards the TARDIS.

"Clara?" He grabs my hands.

"Doctor!" Cleopatra's voice rings out behind me.

"Cleo…" The colour drains from his face before returning with a blushing vengeance.

We all just stand there for a minute, and I don't think one of us knows quite what to do.

Cleopatra is leveling a terrifying glare at the Doctor.

Caesar is looking between the three of us, I think hoping for some kind of explanation.

The Doctor is now holding the hands I was trying to shove him with and his eyes keep flicking between 'Cleo' and myself.

Me, well I am seeing everyone else's reaction so obviously I am looking at all of them in turn.

"Guards!" The Pharaoh of Egypt calls.

"No!" Caesar takes a few steps towards her, looking troubled.

A group of men burst into the room, some are Roman, others Egyptian, and they look very confused about who to answer to.

The Doctor finds his voice again.

"Well, you two look like a lovely couple, and you know if you think about it I kind of set you up with the whole carpet thing and all so why don't you just get on with your day and we will pop back in our box, everyone carries on with what they were doing and we all go home happy ey?"

He is edging back to the TARDIS now, taking me with him.

"Oh yes Doctor, do carry on with what you are doing. Then leave like a _thief_ in the night with one's most treasured possession aside from her dignity."

Okay, maybe I do want to hear this story..?

"Bring him to me!" She commands.

The Romans stay where they are, but the Egyptian guards lower their spears as they approach us. Leaving us stuck between a rock and a… pointy spot… We have backed up past the alter, and are against the railing of the balcony now, probably four stories up.

Caesar is looking on in alarm, but motions to one of his men, whispering something in his ear that I can't hear. The man leaves without Cleopatra's notice; she is too focused on the Doctor.

"He will taste the wrath of Pharaoh, and so will his paramour!"

"_Paramour_?" I am staring right at her again, probably looking more than a little angry myself.

_Wife_ I agreed to, it was easy, it was a lie but one I was comfortable with, too comfortable with at times. _Girlfriend_ was a necessity, not something we chose, but not a hardship either I guess. _Paramour_ though, nope, not okay with that.

I trust him. And trust is paramount for a real relationship. Maybe that is why it is so easy to pretend, because that _is_ what we are doing. Obviously. But a paramour, that is different, that is an illicit relationship, something that others shame you for. It makes me anecdotal next to the Doctor. When someone calls me his wife that makes him my husband, if I am his girlfriend he is my boyfriend. Just writing me off as a paramour though…

In the context of the universe, I probably am just an anecdote at best, but in the way she is insinuating, I am _not _going to be written off. Or rather I wouldn't be, if you know… But really, _why_ is it that _everywhere_ we go, _everyone_ keeps bringing this up? Honestly! I'm _not_ in love with him; I'm not _allowed_ to be. Not that I wish I was allowed, ahh...

Bigger worries Clara, keep remembering that. Don't fall in love, not that you are.

"What else could you be to him? He certainly is not one to stay around; he does not even keep his _face_." Cleopatra continues.

Before I can say anything, Caesar pushes his way through the spear wall in front of us, pulling the Doctor away from me and roughly shoving him half over the railing, looking like he will toss him face first over it.

"No!" I leap to stop him, but then something very strange happens.

The Doctor stops struggling, gives Caesar a look and then turns to me.

"Trust me?"

"Yes."

He grabs my hand, pushes off of Caesar and flips us over the balcony.

* * *

**A/N: After doing my research properly I discovered that Cleo is conveniently **_**in**_** Rome for March 15 44BCE. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 14**_

People say that they have a fear of heights, but heights aren't innately worrisome, _falling_ from them is what you need to worry about.

Falling, it doesn't hurt; it is just the space in time where you can't do anything except wait for the ground to come. In my dreams I fall a lot, through nothingness, there is never an impact, I just have to wait, knowing its coming. I hate waiting; I hate not being able to do anything to save myself.

That is why I find falling terrifying; because I'm helpless once it happens.

Now I am falling for real, but it's not through nothingness, and I'm not alone. I pull myself into the Doctor, and he puts his arms around me. I close my eyes as my head pushes against his chest. We have seconds, if that. I don't know how high up we really were.

If this is it though, it could be worse, it'll be quick and I'll be with someone I... who I…

Instead of a hard impact though, we bounce off of a yielding surface before being surrounded by some kind of fabric and dragged quickly. Opening my eyes I can't see anything except light filtering in through canvas, and the material of the Doctor's jacket. There are voices around us, hushed but urgent.

We are picked up awkwardly, people are carrying us somewhere. The Doctor shifts so that I can see his face and he puts a finger to his mouth, indicating for me to stay silent before he wipes a tear from my eye and starts to stroke my hair. I didn't know I had started crying, I didn't mean to…

A few moments later, the shuffle of movement slows, and suddenly we are thrown out of our cocoon. But again instead of hitting something hard, we land with a splash into cold water.

Orienting myself I break the surface, looking around I see the Doctor's head pop up as well. He swims over to me, and a voice calls to us from a small dock.

The man that Caesar spoke to is standing there with a few other legionaries.

He tosses something to the Doctor; it looks like a medal of some sort.

"Stay in the river, there is a small cave in the bank of the Tiber not far downstream, come ashore and _stay_ there. Wait until evening and then come back for your temple box, show that to the men at the gate and they will let you in. Caesar sends his regards, and hopes that Oswin will not mind becoming a caveman for a few hours."

With that they fold up the thing they had carried us in, which looks like a sail now that I am outside of it. They must have held it out and caught us, then covered us with it before Cleopatra had time to see. Caesar wouldn't have risked her wrath; he made it look like he was going to help take us. When he had the Doctor over the railing he was showing him the sail his men had laid out beneath us. That was quick thinking, nothing slow about it, just lots of haste…

The Doctor is struggling to tread water, and motions his head in the direction that we had been told to go. Neither of us seem to be particularly good swimmers. Splashing about in the TARDIS pool for fun isn't anything like trying to make our way through the Tiber.

Not far turns out to be accurate though, and we haul ourselves ashore, crawling into the small cave, both breathing hard and sputtering up water.

"This is the second time I have ended up cold and soaked because of that women." I say once I manage to get some more air.

The Doctor looks at me, rather surprised, before shaking his head and giving me a look of wonder.

I don't want to take that look from his face, but something Cleopatra alleged is really bothering me.

"When you said that Jack wouldn't recognize you like that, you meant a bit more than the bowtie didn't you? She didn't seem to recognize you at all until Caesar called you 'Doctor' and then she said that you… changed your face."

He hesitates, mumbling several things before he actually starts forming words properly.

"When a Time Lord's body reaches the point where it is critically damaged, we have a bit of a trick… A cheat if you will, we call it regenerating; we end up with a brand new body, but with our memories intact. New face, same person, mostly at least. Each body has idiosyncrasies of course. One likes apples, another doesn't, one is strong, and another is less so and so on."

"So… when Jack last saw you, you had a different face?"

"Yeah, and the same with Cleopatra, that was several faces ago actually."

"When you say 'critically damaged' do you mean..?"

"Dying, yeah…" He tries to shrug and blow off what he just said.

He has physically _died_ several times? I can't help but throw my arms around him, which with us still sprawled out in the cave means I am mostly on top of him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, worried.

"You tell me you have been killed more than once and you ask me if I'm okay?"

We just lay there for a while, I'm not sure how long, until we hear people over our heads, it sounds like a cart has stopped above us, we must be under a road by the river.

"Caesar's country houses were just outside of the city, Rome isn't far away. We have a few hours to kill before he thought he'd have Cleo cleared out, Clara Oswald, would you like to go to Rome with me?"

I laugh against his chest and nod my head.

He pushes himself up, hoisting me in the process.

"We're both soaked, aren't we going to stick out a bit looking like this?"

He grins, his eyebrow waggling a bit before he pulls out his bag from our first trip into the city.

He takes out two long cloaks, one of which he drapes around me and the other around himself. They mostly hide our soaked, modern clothes. When I say 'modern' about the Doctor, I am speaking in relative terms of course. Even he is modern looking next to a Roman after all.

"You're wearing Caesar's cloak." I say to him, amused.

"He gave it to you, so _technically_ it's yours." He murmurs as we climb the river bank, coming to a stone road which follows the river.

He pulls out the sonic screwdriver, and starts flashing it about, walking down the road with me in tow as he starts to take readings.

"The rift must be right in the city. Well, you know what they say about roads-"

"They all lead to Rome." I finish for him as we head towards the large city in the distance down the laneway.

* * *

The city seems… tense when we arrive, slipping through a gate unnoticed with a group of other travelers. The Doctor is much more careful waving his technology around this time, and has put the hood up on his cloak. We don't want another adoring mob with the Pharaoh of Egypt hunting us down. We skirt into allies, around corners and behind walls as he tries to track the rift. I still can't tell that time is apparently speeding away from us here, but I will take his word for it.

Our trek takes us far from the outer edges of the city, into what I can only assume is a richer neighbourhood, based on the splendor of the houses.

We come to a plaza, where there is a group listening to a town crier.

"A reward is offered, to anyone with information regarding the disappearance of Marinas Claudius Auifidia, last seen leaving the house of the Glabae family, yesterday, the 13th of March."

The Doctor's head suddenly spins to look at the man.

"What did you just say?"

The man looks grumpy, but repeats himself for all to hear. The Doctor then quickly stalks off to the nearest place hidden from view.

"Do you know where Marinas is? Do we need to go find them?"

"No, it was the date I was worried about, not the missing person… Clara, we need to get out of here quickly, because tomorrow Rome is going to be bedlam…"

"…why..?"

The Doctor takes a deep breath before looking me right in the eyes.

"And you Brutus?" He echoes me from earlier.

"The Ides of March…" I whisper.

Caesar dies tomorrow, or rather, Caesar is _killed_ tomorrow…

"Come on…" The Doctor takes my hand and leads me along again, but I can't stop thinking about what he just said.

Caesar has helped us more than once, and I know he is going to die tomorrow.

"Can we help him?"

"No, there are some points in time that can't be changed. All of Western history would go wrong if Caesar lived, I'm sorry, we can't Clara…"

I stop walking, which brings the Doctor to a halt to. I feel a tear roll down my cheek, but this time I don't stop it.

"We _are_ going to find the rift this afternoon."

"Yes, I hope so."

"And then, we are going to find him, and we are going to say goodbye, properly."

The Doctor looks terrified at the prospect for some reason.

"That probably isn't a good idea Clara, leaving him alone would be-"

"No Doctor, we are not leaving him alone. We can't change, but we can help him, we can say goodbye, like a real friend would if they knew they weren't going to see you again."

The Doctor looks deeply uncomfortable with that notion. I put a hand on his face, a different gesture for me, a personal one… While I accept all of his little touches, I don't make a lot of them myself really…

"This is us, not walking away in the only way we can this time." I tell him.

The Doctor swallows, before nodding slightly, and turning back to his work of tracking the rift. He points the sonic up the street, and it starts going mad.

"Looks like we will be visiting the senate after all Clara…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

**Make Haste Slowly – **_**Chapter 15**_

Of _course_ there'd be two vicious looking brutes guarding the entrance to where we need to go, because otherwise we could just stroll right in, and that would just be far too easy.

The Doctor pulls out his psychic paper, eyeing it up, gauging the risk at using it.

"You're sure the rift is actually inthere?"

"Without a doubt."

"What about that thing Caesar gave us?"

He pulls out the medal, its silver, with a mirror finish. There is an eagle minted on it, clasping lightning bolts in its talons, with an inscription engraved around the edges of the flat side. I move the Doctor's hand out of the way so I can read it.

_Make haste slowly_

"Think that'll get us in?"

"The crest of Caesar, it's worth a shot I suppose."

I take it from his hands and duck out from our hiding spot, trying to look like I belong here. Remember Clara, you are the boss… I hold the silver disk up to the men, who had tensed as I approached them. They share a look before moving out of our way.

The building is silent, and our footsteps echo off the white marble. As breathtaking as the future is, the past can be equally stunning. The majesty of this building is incredible; I can understand a bit better why men have been trying to recreate the glory of Rome for hundreds of years…

We wander until we find ourselves in a semi-circular room, with benches cut into the stone around the edges. There are a few chairs at the front of the room, one larger and more imposing than the others. Not quite a throne, but a very imposing seat none the less.

The Doctor points his sonic at a spot on the floor and is knocked over by the powerful reading he gets.

"Right there then?" I ask as I kneel next to him. At first I think that I'm hearing echoes from somewhere else in the building, but then I realize it's coming from the spot on the floor.

My face must have given away my surprise.

"You can hear them too?"

"Yes."

He runs his hands over the stone of the floor, taps it a few times.

"The rift is right _here_, but it is closed, actually properly closed. It shouldn't be causing any problems. But somehow, even though it's shut, something seems to be trapped on the other side. It's panicking I think, snarling at us…"

"No, it's not."

He gives me a questioning look.

"Something snarls when it is wounded, trying to scare people off, this is calling to us, trying to bring us in."

"What makes you say that?" He asks very slowly.

"I don't know, maybe you said it once?"

He turns back to the spot on the floor.

"Whatever this is we need to get it out. A rift can be opened, but it takes something powerful to do it, Gwyneth had been part of the rift her whole life, she had a connection to it so with some _help_ she got it open… Opening a rift is _violent_, it takes a lot to do, some kind of trigger, usually more than one person can manage."

"You said that it was a violent process?" I ask, hating what I am about to suggest. He nods.

"Caesar, he is about to get killed here… tomorrow… would that kind of event, a fixed point in time, a violent point full of anger and sadness, not just for him but for so many people here, could that do something? This room is the center of it all…"

He pulls me into a hug.

"Oh Clara…"

"It'll work won't it? With all that it might come open?"

"It might be enough to make a bit of a dent. Not for long, we would have to get here pretty quick after… I could probably keep it open long enough for whatever is in there to get out."

We both sigh.

"All the senators flee the building, history chalks it up to being horrified at what they did, but it might be more than that, maybe whatever is in that rift comes out, and they don't like what they see, or hear…"

We know where the rift is, we know what we need to do, so we have the answers for the last bit of our plan.

"Step five, come back here tomorrow and face down whatever comes out of there." I try to look very confident with this bit. He shakes his head though.

"No, that is step six actually."

"Okay, what's step five then?"

"Step five is a proper goodbye to a certain caveman." He says, cupping my cheek gently with his hand.

* * *

By the time we make it out of the city, the sun is setting and the light quickly fading. The greenery of the surrounding hills is a welcome relief after the dust and the heat of Rome. The closer we get to Caesar's hopefully unoccupied country house, the more determined the Doctor's gate becomes.

We show the medal, and are let in without question. A young girl, a servant I'm guessing, meets us inside and leads us back up to the room with the golden statue and the balcony. Seeing as we had taken the… quick… way out last time, I am glad we have someone to guide us back here. The house is massive and I think we could have gotten lost. The TARDIS is behind a thin curtain, which she draws back, looking very confused, eyes going from us to the TARDIS and back again.

The Doctor winks at her, before pulling the curtain to conceal us from view. I can only imagine the look on her face when she hears the sound of the TARDIS disappearing.

* * *

The snog box settles into a small yard, inside another large villa. There are a few rooms with lights still flickering inside of them, but most of the house seems to be asleep.

"Do we know where he is?"

The Doctor shakes his head.

"All I can say that this is where Caesar is tonight. He's planning a military campaign, one his successors botch without him. My guess is that he'll be burning a bit of the midnight oil making preparations."

The house seems deserted, we don't meet anyone as we comb through it. I feel a bit of dread building in the pit of my stomach.

This was my idea, and it's the right thing to do, not walking away in the only manner I can think of.

But now that I have to actually do it, march in there and say goodbye, I'm not sure how. How do you walk up to someone you _know_ is going to die tomorrow, and wish them well? How do you say goodbye, for the last time?

The Doctor pushes a door open, revealing a room full of books, parchment and scrolls. There are several lamps lit, and in the corner of the room by a terrace Caesar is sitting, pouring over a map.

He looks up briefly in alarm when he hears us come in, but when he sees who we are his expression lights up.

"Doctor, Oswin!"

"Hello." I manage to say with a small smile.

"You are both in one piece, you have nothing of mine to return, no one is chasing you, this is a rare occasion, no pressing concerns to attend to."

"Well, we can't actually stay…"

His smile falls a bit.

"That might be for the best, for your wellbeing at least. _Pharaoh_ is not pleased about seeing you this afternoon Doctor. She is still hunting for you both, and I do not want you to be fed to the crocodiles of Alexandria."

"I just… wanted to say goodbye before we left."

"We both did." The Doctor adds.

"You won't be coming back this time then?"

"No… We hope to finish our business in Rome tomorrow." The Doctor tells him.

"That is Rome's loss; your fleeting presence will be missed, by myself if by no one else."

"Thank you, for _everything_."

Everything is rather all encompassing; it makes it so I have to say fewer words, less for me to choke on…

"It has been my sincere pleasure."

I take out the medal he gave us this afternoon and offer it to him; if it's cast in silver it must be worth a small fortune. No, he won't be worried about money soon, but I won't take advantage of him.

"Please keep it. Who knows, perhaps the winds blow you back here someday, you both are always under my protection here. Show that to anyone in this city that knows what is good for them, and they will leave you be."

Caesar stands up and comes around the desk, offering his hand to the Doctor, and they share a somewhat stiff handshake and a nod. He then turns to me, taking my hand and kissing it.

"Still as lovely as the ring you wear. Farewell Oswin, friend of the God who is not a God."

"Goodbye." I almost whisper.

We leave the study as Caesar returns to his map. Once out of the room, the Doctor puts an arm around my shoulder.

Neither of us says anything when we get back to the TARDIS, there isn't a lot to say really. He goes about setting the TARDIS to fly away, back to the rift's location.

Step six; face down whatever comes out of the rift and fix the flow of time.

* * *

**A/N: Coming nearer to the end now, holy cow… I'm not entirely sure how much is left, a few chapters at least. I'm writing this as I go based off of my original outline (which has changed a lot from when I started) and sometimes what I think will take no time is a couple thousand words and something that I think will be long is half a chapter. Thank you for sticking with me, for the follows, reviews and whatnot!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

_**Make Haste Slowly – Chapter 16**_

The Doctor doesn't undershoot or overshoot, the TARDIS lands exactly where we need to be, exactly when we need to be, just in time to see a flood of men fleeing the building.

I expect when most people hear screaming, their first reaction is to run the _other_ way. Running hand in hand as fast as you can, pushing past horrified people as they vacate a building like it's on fire, that isn't normal.

If I had a normal life though, I wouldn't be in Rome, I wouldn't have stepped out of a blue wooden box that can move through all of time and space and I wouldn't have a brilliantly mad alien sprinting alongside me.

Part of me hoped that I'd be wrong about the rift coming open, but when we want to be wrong, usually we're right.

The semicircular marble room is a horror scene; Caesar's body is cast off to the side, nothing but a lump of white robes stained red... The faint whispers we heard yesterday are now shouting voices, echoing off of the stone walls, reverberating around the room. And stemming from the rift point is a dark grey haze, flowing in all directions like tentacles. They seem to be stuck, tethered to that one spot.

We both stagger as the shouts start forming words I can't make any sense of, it's all numbers, dates, names, times, letters… I don't know what to do with it; it almost feels like it's trying to seep into my mind…

"Noooo!" The Doctor cries, snapping me back into focus to see a furious look on his face.

"Doctor?"

"I know what this is, and I can't... only some of it made it through the rift; it's stuck, like a snake in a trap, writhing to get away. It's going to tear the rift apart, which will at the _very least_ level the city if I don't get it out but..."

"But what?"

His voice cracks and I can't tell if it's from anger or if he just choked back a sob.

"But I know what it is, or at least what it will be. Nothing but information, it needs to seek a host and its going to find more than one, and they are going to do terrible things, things I bitterly regret, that I should have _stopped_."

The room begins to shake as whatever this is continues to try and pull itself free.

"But you have to! Remember what we said to Jack? Sometimes there isn't a good choice, just a less bad one! We have to do this, you told him that he was brave for making his choice Doctor; we have to be brave too! Some bad will come of it, but how many hundreds of thousands of people are in the city right now, already terrified because of what has happened here? What can it do that would be _worse_ than ripping this city apart?"

He turns, leveling me with a gaze so… _distressed_ that it throws me. The way he looks, I actually think he wants to argue with me. What could happen that'd make him contemplate letting Rome be annihilated? What could he think is _worse_ than that? I don't want to dwell on that thought, and I don't want him to either…

"You said you could open this rift up if it was weakened? How?"

He turns to look at the floor again.

"I could _probably_ shock it open."

"Shock it?"

"Yeah, literally, like a jolt of electricity."

Some of the tentacles seem to be trying to reach for us now, and the voices are becoming louder.

"Okay, do it then, sooner rather than later would be good…"

"_Well_… Not really sure how…"

"You have a sonic screwdriver that does everything!"

One of the tentacles lashes out at us; we both throw ourselves away from it. The Doctor rolls to his feet and whips out the sonic, looking at it desperately.

"It doesn't quite do _everything_, I keep having this problem with wood and-"

"Doctor!"

The tentacle sweeps at us again, this time we end up bunched together.

"Yes, right, I _need_ something conductive, I can't shock the floor on its own, it's made of marble…"

"Something like silver?"

"Well yes if you happen to have a big silver plate on you that would be great but-"

"_Doctor_."

I pull the medal that Caesar told us to keep from my pocket. He is dead on the floor but Rome is still under his protection after all…

"Oooohhh. That will do nicely."

I toss it to him and he lunges, diving underneath the snaking arms of haze.

"What happens if that touches us?" I ask as I roll away from another attack. I probably don't really want to know, but not knowing won't make me any safer…

"Let's not find out." He mutters distractedly as he slips the silver disk right onto the point of the haze's origin, and jabs it sharply with the sonic screwdriver.

There is a resounding crack of an electric shock, and a sort of rocky whining from the ground. The haze convulses before it springs out from the floor, now freely floating in the room like a cloud, the shock seeming to have done the trick, freeing it. A loud slamming follows, shaking the room again, which I can only guess is the rift snapping itself shut.

I throw myself on the floor after the Doctor as the fog settles close to where I had been standing. Can a cloud look angry? It sounds like it's hissing at us, and it's definitely drifting closer…

"Apparently it didn't like that…" The Doctor says, gulping.

"So, not good to let it touch us right?" I ask again as I help him up.

"No definitely not, it might poison us, might possess us, might do any number of unpleasant things..."

We both start backing up, but we have very little space to go.

"Ask it things it can't know, things that haven't happened yet, things that you don't know the answer to!" The Doctor desperately exclaims.

"Why?"

"It _is_ information, facts and details. Somehow it was stuck on the inside of the rift, it wanted to get out so it tried problem solving based on everything it knows, which is everything that has happened to _this_ point in time."

The cloud bearing down on us is getting thicker now, and the sounds are almost like cackles.

"It couldn't do it though, not just with information, it needed more than that, a way to _apply_ it, some kind of physical form. But it kept trying to _think_ its way out; it couldn't get over having a problem it couldn't solve. Remember how I said to imagine time as jam? And that something was heating it?"

"Yes, quite clearly, not long after you almost got run over by a _horse_."

"It must have kept thinking so long that it _overheated_, like a computer if you leave it on for too long without a place to vent itself. Inside the rift the heat had nowhere to go. The temperature must have risen so much that _time_ itself got hotter and started to flow quicker."

"Right now it's just a gas, a cloud, a haze. It's the best physical form it can manage on its own. When gases get hot they expand, and it's not stuck in the rift anymore, it has the whole atmosphere of earth to absorb it. We have to make it think, a lot, burn it up! So Clara, ask it things it can't know and can't learn from you. Make it overheat!"

I am having that feeling when someone asks you something and you forget everything you know; or rather _don't_ know in this case… Oh my stars… here goes…

"What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

"_Monty Python_?" The Doctor is looking incredulously at me.

"First question that came to mind. This is _your_ idea..."

The haze keeps creeping forward.

"Yes, _please_ keep going..."

"What is the fastest way to get from Blackpool to New York City?"

"When did tea first come to Scotland?"

"What was the record time for the hundred meter dash in 1948?

"Who made the first microchip?

"How many tigers are in the London zoo on… November 23, 2013?"

I keep shouting questions at it. The room is definitely getting warmer now, we are still backing up but have ever less room to do so, with the cloud still advancing on us, but it _is_ slower now…

"Keep going." The Doctor encourages me.

"Who was the 20th king of England?"

"When was Canadian confederation?"

"Did Richard III kill his brother's sons?"

"Where did Amelia Earhart crash land?"

Is it just me, or is the floor getting _really_ hot? I can feel it through my shoes.

The Doctor's hands find my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze, silently telling me to continue.

We can't back up anymore now; we're right up against the stairs. But that _thing_ is no longer bearing down on us, it's stopped, I can feel the sweat beading off of me now…

"Who invented the bicycle?"

"How many years was Nixon president of America?"

"What is Shakespeare's greatest play?"

At that question, the haze convulses and releases a cascade of sparks.

It _really_ didn't like that, maybe because there isn't a _right_ answer? It's a subjective question! Totally dependent on your own beliefs! That isn't just something _I _don't know, it's something you _can't_ know, but it is still a question so it's going to try and find an answer… Okay...

"What is the most powerful country in the 21st century?"

"How do you have no time when you have a time machine?"

The floor is definitely heating up; it's actually starting to hurt… I shift uncomfortably; the Doctor rocks himself back across the steps, and pulls me somewhat awkwardly into his lap, so that I'm no longer touching the floor.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Where does inspiration come from?"

"When do you stop feeling guilty about something you did wrong?"

The haze is so faint now it's hard to see, but it's so hot… I know I'm soaked with sweat and it's getting harder to think properly… My hair is sticking to my face; I just want to close my eyes.

"Clara, no, come on Clara…" His voice is far away but I try to keep going.

"What's wrong with dangerous?"

The bodiless voices sound more like cries now. I have to keep going, what else don't I know…

"Why do we let ourselves be lonely?"

"How do you stop yourself from falling in love?"

"Doctor Who?"

The cries turn to shrill screams that seem to pierce through me, and the ever fainter haze wafts apart into nothing, like it was blown by some unseen wind, the screams fading away, spreading out in all directions until they finally fall silent.

The room almost immediately starts to get cool, making it a lot easier to breath; not fearing for our safety is probably making that easier too.

The Doctor sets me down from the awkward position in his lap he'd pulled me into, laying me gently on the floor, the stone having also dropped back down in temperature.

He stands up and dusts himself off; the back of his jacket is pretty singed. Had the room actually gotten that hot? How did he take being pressed up against the step if it did that to his coat? It's probably going to be a casualty of this adventure... But luckily I think that it will be the only one, except the one that history said we couldn't save, even though he saved us…

I have to turn my head away from the remains of Gaius Julius Caesar.

Now and again, time is the boss of us all.

* * *

**A/N: I am sorry this took so long compared to my usual standards, I rewrote it several times before I was even moderately happy with it… I'm really hoping I managed to do this in a way that makes sense. Feels like it would look a lot better than I managed to make it sound. Probably one or two chapters left to this now! Tie up the loose ends, answer a few remaining questions. **

**Also, I didn't notice until now how unusual it is to write in the first person, and I hope that it isn't turning people off...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

_**Make Haste Slowly – Chapter 17**_

While I continue to catch my breath, the Doctor pulls off his burned jacket and uses it to scoop up the silver medal from the floor, folding the coat around it and tucking it under his arm. He then walks back over to me, slouched more than usual, offering me a hand up.

Normally this would be a time of celebration, a job well done moment, when we revel in the fact that both of us are still okay. We could do it in a silent look, with a high five, with a hug… but whatever _it_ ends up being now is usually the time. But this isn't a victory, he didn't want this to happen, we just didn't have a choice, or rather the choice was between something bad and something worse.

We walk in silence back outside towards the TARDIS, the streets are quiet still, calm before the storm I suppose.

At the TARDIS doors the Doctor fumbles for his key, but when he finally pulls it out, the key slips from his hands and falls to the cobbled street with a beautiful clink. Before he can bend over to get it though my hand has reached out for it, and I stand to unlock the TARDIS without even thinking about it. We stagger in one after the other, leaning against the door when he shuts them behind us. I guess we're both a bit exhausted, how much have I slept recently? I don't really know how long we've been at this; it's a jumble of hours here and there… Rome, south coast of Britain somewhere, London, _Cardiff_, I have really gotten around this time.

"You'll be needing this back." I say as I offer him his key.

He looks at it and then looks at me, studying us both carefully.

"Keep it." He says quietly.

"Sorry, what?" I can't have heard him right; I know I can't have…

He closes my hand over it, smiling.

"Keep it." He repeats, holding my hand closed over it.

"Don't you need it?"

"You keep that one, I've got a spare."

Some things words can't describe, the look that passes between us in that moment is one of them.

* * *

After a few hours of sleep in my room on the TARDIS, I'm surprised to wake up and not find the Doctor where I left him, that being curled up next to me reading more of the Venerable Bede. In his place however he left the medal that Caesar had given us, still settled in his ruined jacket. I pick it up, running my finger over the engraved words once again before dressing quickly and going to find the Doctor.

He walks into the TARDIS carrying a basket as I enter the console room.

"Clara! Excellent timing, I just popped out to get us a spot of breakfast, now we just need to find a place to eat it. I've had a thought on that, hope you don't mind…"

* * *

Just like Akhaten, he makes me close my eyes as we leave the TARDIS. The air is cool, and there are the sounds of a city all around me, cars, people laughing and singing somewhat off key, bike bells ringing at unwary pedestrians… I can smell grass, fresh bread, something floral as well as a faint tinge of cigarette smoke.

"Okay…" He says as he turns me to face, well something.

I open my eyes to see the Roman Colosseum in the distance, just as a burst of fireworks go off behind it.

"Rome, 12:07AM, New Years Day, 1993." He says with a grin when I turn to look at him, before he plops down onto the grassy knoll and pulls out a jar from his basket.

"Strawberry jam?" I can't hide my amusement.

"And scones from Lake District, yes."

I laugh as I sit next to him, spooning jam onto a still warm scone and taking a bite.

"Tastes like time." I joke.

He shakes his head, and makes a face, not being able to chastise me immediately because of a full mouth.

"No it _really_ doesn't." He manages after struggling to swallow.

"What does time taste like then? Have you actually tasted time?"

"Well it doesn't taste like strawberries. That much I know." He scoffs.

A particularly loud and vibrant series of fireworks distract me from bothering him any further for the moment.

Several bites of scone later another question comes to mind though.

"What did you steal from _Cleo_?"

"Hmm?"

"She called you a thief, said you'd taken her most 'precious possession' aside from her dignity. What was it?"

"Oh that! Well..."

He gestures rather awkwardly before continuing.

"I just happened to be in the neighbourhood, checking in on a friend who'd given me some fencing lessons. He turned out to be a captain of Cleopatra's bodyguards, which I didn't know at the time; people are really full of surprises. Anyways, popped by to say thanks and ended up swept away in the royal caravan. I meant to slip off but then I heard something crying. Nobody else could hear it though; the pitch was out of your hearing range. I followed my ears, which lead me to a beautiful purple gemstone set into a statue of Isis. It wasn't just some bit of earth that the jewellers decided was pretty though, it was actually a bit of Imperial Amber from… somewhere very far away. I have no idea how it managed to end up on earth."

He looks wistfully at the sky for a moment before continuing.

"Just like normal earth amber, things got stuck inside of Imperial Amber though, preserved in it. Turns out a little Gallipuff had been trapped in this piece, but had gone into a self induced coma to stay alive. They always were very resourceful little creatures. I was about to take the stone and run when Cleopatra walked in. Turns out I had ended up in her tent…"

He swallowed, although this time it wasn't the food's fault that he struggled.

"... _Well_... I didn't want to be caught thieving from the future Pharaoh of Egypt so I, well... Blond hair is _quite_ the thing for her apparently."

"Blond?"

"Yeah, I was blond at the time, pretty dapper, had a thing for cricket."

Picturing him blond in my head isn't going so well.

"When I made my getaway later I did leave her the carpet, so I consider it more of a trade than a theft. They didn't know of the significance of the stone, they just thought it was beautiful. Pretty rocks are all over earth, but you can't get a carpet like that anywhere in these parts let me tell you."

"What happened to the Gallipuff?"

"Poor little thing, it took some doing to crack the stone and free her but I did manage. It also took a bit longer to get her… _home_… than I meant it to but she was very fond of celery so we got on just fine."

Blond Doctor? Still doesn't seem right. Oh well. We fall into a comfortable silence watching the firework show. The Doctor actually seems to be spending more time looking at me than the lights though, so he sees when I start to shiver a bit, not being dressed for even an Italian winter, he wraps an arm around me while I happily lean against him, still watching the sky.

The smell of food wafting up the hill from a little bar brings an unwelcome thought to my mind though…

What am I going to do for _family_ dinner tonight? Well tonight to me, not to Rome… If I have been gone all weekend the chances of the Maitlands getting groceries are slim to none. George has gotten used to me taking care of that unless I ask him to pick up bread or something. And the Doctor is going to be joining us, as Doctor John Smith, my _boyfriend_ and I haven't thought of something to tell Angie about my ring… Oh my stars…

But… you know what? That will have to wait. At this moment, there are still more important things to worry about than what people think of my love life. Important things like how much laundry I have managed to accumulate this weekend, thanks to Romans, Celts, Egyptians and her majesty the TARDIS. Then again I could worry about trying to find the right words to describe that last firework, because the colour was absolutely stunning. I could even worry about how particularly soft the material of the Doctor's jacket seems to feel against my face.

Or I could just stop worrying for a little while and enjoy it…

* * *

**A/N: I am so tempted to leave them happy on the hill but we need to make it back to the Maitlands, so looks like one more chapter after all.**

**To the lovely guest reviewer 'hello i love you,' I am flattered beyond words, thank you very much! Thank you to everyone who is reviewing, I have fun writing and I am really glad to hear people are enjoying reading it too.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and friends.**

* * *

_**Make Haste Slowly – Chapter 18 – Final Chapter**_

Peering into the fridge after returning to the Maitland house with the Doctor on Sunday afternoon, I can't help but let out a rather frustrated noise at the current grocery situation. As I feared, without me around no one had thought to stock up.

"I'm gonna to have to make an emergency shopping trip." I tell the Doctor as I start making myself a list.

"Would you like some help?"

He laughs at the look of shock I give him.

"I've been known to be a bit handy to have around now and again in emergency situations."

"You could probably save two moons and visit Voltaire or something before I get this done though."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same on my own, and you may have noticed I have a time machine, those moons and Voltaire will still be there later. This emergency however, needs handling now."

Angie and Artie tumble into the kitchen, apparently having listened in on our whole conversation, we really need to be more careful about what we discuss where people can overhear us…

The two of them start talking over each other, offering to help, no doubt wanting to get the Doctor on his own.

Angie had some kind of report for school that she has neglected all weekend though, which is of course due tomorrow, so I put my foot down and she grudgingly stays to work on it, I can't say no to Artie though.

He and the Doctor are surprisingly quite helpful, as long as I give them clear directions at least. Far from being put off by Artie's questions, the Doctor seems to enjoy talking to him, about stars and far off comets and exactly what Martin Luther thought about the Pope. I enjoy seeing the Doctor like this, lit up and happy. Soon I decide it's safe enough to let them off on their own.

While examining an avocado, I hear part of their conversation as they come back with the bananas I sent them for.

"I am really not any good. I don't think I should try it…"

"Nonsense Artie, practice is the only way to get better; you really should join your school chess club! I'm a bit of a chess player myself and it certainly took me a while to get better at it. Luckily I've had _quite_ a bit of time."

"How old _are_ you?" Artie asks, looking very curious.

The Doctor peeks over at me, seeming to know that might not be territory I want to get into right now. Which I don't, we can save the fact that he is over a thousand years old for later… Hopefully _much_ later, possibly never actually.

"Artie, can you give me a hand for a minute?"

He reluctantly leaves the Doctor and ventures off to find some apples.

When we make it to the till, I can't help but have a bit of fun. I know exactly where my wallet is in my bag, but instead of taking it out I dig through the bag, passing the Doctor an address book, a chap stick, some spare napkins and a broken bracelet I'd forgotten about before finally taking my wallet out and paying for our groceries.

He just shakes his head and smiles reluctantly before handing it all back to me.

"No magic wand in there though, so no flowers or fanfare when we leave." I whisper to him as we carry the bags out to the Maitland's car.

* * *

Angie has herself set up at the kitchen table by the time we return, and she is looking absolutely miserable.

"What are you working on?" I try to ask cheerfully as I drop a few bags on the counter.

"Just a school report Clara." She says sharply.

I can't stop myself from scowling at her tone, but right now I need to get the frozen stuff into the freezer and put dinner on.

* * *

When we all sit down for our _family_ meal, I can't help but feel worried. I managed to keep George and or the Doctor pretty busy all afternoon so that they the former wouldn't be able to start asking the later the mandatory questions... Like where the Doctor lived, what he did, how we met and so forth. We should've come up with answers for these questions before we got here, that really would've been smart. But it looks like we are back to making it up as we go instead of _making haste slowly_.

When George finally decides that he and the Doctor have exchanged enough pleasantries to get into the more substantial questions, I start fidgeting.

"So, you're a Doctor then John? Like a medical Doctor or do you have your PhD in something?"

"Medical doctor, but I don't have my own office; I do most of my work abroad." He says without hesitating.

George scratches his chin a moment.

"Like a Doctors Without Borders type thing?"

The Doctor beams.

"Yes, quite like that."

Okay, that bit actually went… okay.

"How'd you meet Clara? At university, or somewhere else?"

"I haven't known her that long, although I wish I did. No, I was… very lost and she was kind enough to point me in the right direction, I was afraid I would never see her again after that. Luckily a… friend gave her my number, and she happened to need my help one day so we got to see each other again."

That girl in the shop, still haven't thought about her enough. I can't help but wonder if she is like Jack, a friend for real, just left behind… This is a good story though, we can work with this. Chance meeting and then running into each other again, brilliant, that works.

"Did you two have a good weekend?" George asks me.

"Yeah we did, went for coffee Friday night, spent some time at John's, I helped him sort out some things for his… practice. It was great."

"That doesn't sound very exciting." Artie tells us, looking sad.

Did he expect us to talk about time travel in front of his Dad? We are going to have to have a chat about things we _don't_ mention to George about the Doctor…

"How is your report going?" I ask Angie, to which she rolls her eyes.

"Badly, it's _so_ boring. Honestly. It's for my history class, we were assigned someone who invaded Britain and we've got to talk about why they succeeded or failed."

The Doctor perks up.

"So most of you are talking about failure then, except whoever got William the Conqueror, that scoundrel…"

"I got stuck with _Caesar_. He's just a stuffy, big nosed old Roman, who _cares_ that he tried to invade Britain in 45BCE." She says, rolling her eyes again as if to emphasize the tedium.

"55BCE, and he wasn't stuffy at all, charming yes, quite lonely, a bit full of himself at times, but not stuffy."

The whole table stops eating to look at me.

"What? It was 55BCE that he invaded Britain the first time, wasn't it?" I ask quickly, looking at the Doctor and feeling suddenly unsure of myself.

"Yes, it was." He nods happily.

"Since when do you know _anything_ about history Clara? You hated it in school, said so yourself." Angie accuses.

"Well, John has given me a bit more of an… appreciation for it." I say, focusing on my plate to avoid the looks I am getting.

"He loves it, and it's quite different when someone is sharing it with you like that. We took a look at Roman history the other day; Caesar was quite a character."

He was brave, he was clever, he was opportunistic, and he was a planner… He was a whole unique person and I got to see that…

Angie looks like she is chewing on lemons for a minute before she asks something that startles us all.

"Do you think you could help with the report after dinner?"

It takes a lot of effort not to look totally taken aback, I don't know if I am succeeding but I really am trying.

"I would be happy to."

"I have a couple books that might help back at my place; I can grab them for you if you want?" The Doctor offers, grinning again, or possibly still.

"I'd… really appreciate that. Thanks." Angie says, before turning to the last bits of dinner on her plate.

The Doctor might not be a God, but I think we just witnessed a miracle...

* * *

Once Angie has a pretty well written report put together, she thanks us again somewhat awkwardly before retreating to her room. Artie had already gone to bed and Mr. Maitland was making sure his briefcase was packed for the coming Monday morning.

"I should probably get going…" The Doctor says, glancing at the door, then me and then the door again.

I just give him a look, not really wanting to tell him to leave even though we both know he has to.

"I was thinking we could take our Roman pottery off to Frehalder sometime this week and change it for that golden ticket I promised. When would be a good time for me to come round again?" He asks as he puts his boots back on.

"Um… Not sure, I haven't really checked what is on the calendar this week for everyone. Not sure when I need to have who where…"

"Just give me a call then. I promise that my phone will behave this time." He tells me with a cheeky smirk.

"It was nice to meet you John, please feel free to stop in anytime, don't be a stranger." Mr. Maitland says, giving a little wave as he passes by us and heads upstairs. I really hope he heard nothing about some place called Frehalder… New rules for what we say in the house, I need to get on those…

"Goodnight Clara." The Doctor says, rather sweetly, giving me a quick kiss on my forehead before stepping outside, leaving the door for me to close behind him.

I keep it open until I hear the TARDIS disappearing and then head to my own room. Once upstairs I discover a very old book sitting open on my desk. It's the one the Doctor had been reading at night, by the Venerable Bede.

The page he left open is about Oswald of Northumbria, and Oswine of Deira, both kings in Northern England in the 7th century. I have a feeling there is something I'm missing here, but honestly I am feeling knackered so that mystery is going to have to wait for another day.

I gently set Caesar's medal on top of '101 Places to See' before digging through my jewelry box to find a chain for my key to hang on, _my_ TARDIS key…

I think that there should be time on Tuesday for Frehalder, and if not I will _make_ time for the Doctor… I mean for _Frehalder_, not my Doctor. Obviously.

* * *

**A/N: What do I do with myself now? Haha oh dear… Thank you very much readers, I really appreciate you spending your time on this and hope you enjoyed yourself! If anyone has any challenges, prompts, ideas or whatnot they would like me to look at doing next, **_**please**_** feel free to message me. I am incredibly grateful for all the feedback and comments I have gotten for this story and my other ones as well. I want to get better at this!**

**Below is a rough chapter by chapter timeline, I know I jumped around a lot so I thought this might be nice. **

**Chapters 1-3: London, 2013CE**

**Chapter 4: Rome, Subura District, 78ishBCE – Caesar lived there owing to problems claiming his inheritance, at this time he worked as a legal advocate**

**Chapters 5-7: Rome, Subura District 60ishBCE – Caesar, now a Consul, works to establish land redistribution favouring the poor and Pompey brings soldiers into Rome to back him up.**

**Chapters 8-9: South Coast of England, 55BCE – Caesar's first of two mostly failed attempts to invade Britain.**

**Chapters 10-11: London, 2013CE**

**Chapter 12: Cardiff, 1965CE – Jack has to choose how to deal with the 4-5-6, and is authorized by the British government to sacrifice 12 children to them in order to acquire the cure to a deadly disease. **

**Chapters 13-15: Rome, March 14****th****, 44BCE – Day before Caesar's assassination, Cleopatra is visiting Rome.**

**Chapter 16: Rome, March 15****th**** 44BCE – Ides of March**

**Chapter 17: Rome, January 1****st**** 1973CE **

**Chapter 18: London, 2013CE**


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